That's What You Get
by ellenfp
Summary: "You never mentioned a female cousin now that I think about it." I raised an eyebrow at Grant. "Sure I have," Grant said. "You didn't mention that Cameron is a girl." "Technicalities." He shrugged. FullSumInside.Z/C.AH.T-I'mParanoid.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I will not be putting a disclaimer at the beginning of each chapter: because I will forget. So here it is at the beginning of the story: Ally Carter owns everything Gallagher and Shakespeare owns his plays. I only own the plot!

Summary: For Cammie Morgan, life isn't as flash as it could be. Her father just died, she's technically been kicked out of her boarding school, and her mum has sent her to live with her over protective cousin in high hopes that she'll 'straighten out.'

Not to mention that said over protective cousin has made her and Zach promise to not get romantically involved with each other.

Everybody knows the best apples are those that are forbidden.

(Crap summary, I know. I will make it better once I have a better grab at the plot.)

** This is my newest fanfiction (and only fanfic at the moment) and I hope you all like it. Keep or dish? It's up to you!**

**Ellen.**

ZPOV

CHAPTER ONE-

"Did you guys hear about the new girl?" Tina asked, walking her way over. Or maybe I should say she strutted her way over. Tina leaned against the concrete wall and stared up at the other member of the group who seemed interested.

I didn't answer but watched as more kids filled the entrance of the school, stepping out of the yellow, prison-like buses.

"We have a new chick?" Max asked, leaning forward, placing his elbows on his knees.

Tina smiled and in one long breath, she said, "Her name's Cameron Morgan – but people call her Cammie. She's our age and grade. She has dirty blond hair and blue eyes. She used to go to some all girls boarding school, but she's moved here. I don't know why, so don't bother asking. She speaks fourteen different languages, she's a drama triple thread (and that includes modelling, dancing, acting, and singing), and she's been doing God-knows-how-many Martial Arts from the age of four. She's done gymnastics and dance and she was a head cheerleader before she moved, and has played up to fifteen different sports; all of which she's excelled in. She choreographed three school musicals and stared in them as the main lead." Tina took a deep breath.

Mac blinked, his brown eyes widening. He shook his blond head of hair. "Jesus," he breathed. "What else is she? A freakin' spy?"

Tina smiled wider. "But that's not the best part."

I snorted. "Then what is?"

Tina smiled and looked over everybody, giving a big dramatic pause.

"She's Joe Solomon's Goddaughter," she whispered each word slowly.

The group was silent for a whole minute before they all gained their composure.

It didn't bother me. So, what, the girl was extremely talented and happened to be the unfortunate Goddaughter of the schools tightest, toughest teacher?

Sucks to be her.

"Well, damn," Max whispered. "There goes any guy's chance of getting close to her."

Jonas rolled his eyes but remained silent.

Tina frowned. "I'm forgetting something."

Maybe it's your clothes, I thought, amused. Don't get me wrong – seeing a girl in a cheerleading uniform – especially the small ones this school keeps – isn't a bad thing. But the lengths some girls went too to get a guys attention... Well, even I'll admit, there had to be some law about clothing length.

One that Tina Walters couldn't find a loop hole.

"Oh! That's right." Tina giggled. "She's Grant's cousin. Although, according to my sources, they're practically siblings."

"You're wrong, Tina," I said. "If Grant's cousin was coming up, one that's apparently as close as you say, then he would have said something to us." Or at least Jonas and I.

Tina shrugged and glanced over at the car park. "Funny. Because from the looks of things, he didn't."

I kept my poker face on as I glanced over at the car park. And honestly, that was a little harder than I thought it would be. Because stepping out of Grant's extremely sweet ride... Was a girl that was definitely not Bex Baxter, Grant's long-time crush.

The girl was everything Tina had described and more. She had dirty blond hair that went more on the brown side, her skin was tanned, and from the skin revealed – which wasn't much because she was still hidden by the car door – you could definitely tell that she was sporty.

What happened next was like a movie as Cameron Morgan stepped out of the car.

First, her long legs were revealed, though covered with her black skinny jeans and those shoes Macey calls 'Gladiators' (though I see no resemblance to the actual people). Second, her torso which she covered up with a white tank top and one of those gray shoulder shirts you see all the girls wear on dance movies (According to Grant (who made us watch the chick flicks in the first place), watching chick flicks will help us understand the female species. Which, one: it doesn't work. Two: Grant got teary in _The Notebook_. And three: I'm extremely sure that the only reason we watched them in the first place is because Grant secretly likes them.). Thirdly, her face.

I swear every guy in the school was practically drooling.

And then every guy seemed to realise that since she stepped out of Grant Newman's car, they better hide their drool.

Cammie whispered something to Grant who smirked before frowning as he thought over her words (something he did quite often) as Cammie walked up the school stairs and into the school building.

I pushed off from my position from leaning against the concrete wall and walked my way over to Grant. Jonas followed.

Grant saw us and his mouth hardened.

"That's your cousin?" I asked.

Grant sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, before he shrugged. "Yeah. That's my cousin. She's staying with my family. Why you ask?"

Jonas was the one who spoke: "You didn't tell us you were having your cousin stay, that's all."

"You didn't mention you had female cousin at all now that I think about it." I raised an eyebrow at Grant.

"Sure, I have," Grant said. "I've mention Cameron all the time."

"You didn't mention that Cameron _is a girl_."

"Technicalities," he said, shrugging.

It was natural that us three (who had known each other while we were in diapers) told each other everything. It wasn't a girly friendship – it was just how we worked.

Grant stared at me. "I didn't tell you because she's my cousin and she's my responsibility."

I raised an eyebrow. "Responsibility? If she's our age then I'm sure she can look after herself. Besides," I said, shrugging. "According to Tina she's been doing Martial Arts since she was four."

Just because I wasn't speaking doesn't mean I wasn't listening.

"Not that way. I mean she's my responsibility to keep the pervs away."

"And you didn't tell us because you think we're pervs? I don't do anything that the girl doesn't want me to. You know that."

"I'm no perv," Jonas said.

Grant sighed. "Yeah, I do. Sorry, Jonas, but if I told you I would have had to tell him over there." He jerked his head my way. "And I couldn't do that." Grant stared at me in the eye. "Leave Cammie alone, Zach. I mean it. She's my cousin and I don't want her getting hurt over you. Because if I have to pick between the two of you... I'll always pick my family."

I frowned. "And what if she wants me?"

Grant smirked then. "Already beat you to it." He walked away and we quickly followed.

"What do you mean?" I said grudgingly.

I didn't like following people. _They _always followed _me._

"I think it means that he's already told her about you. And probably none of the... Uhh... Good things, either," Jonas said.

I cut him a look. Smartass.

Jonas shrugged and smiled before he walked off towards where our lockers where. Each of us had managed to sweet talk our way into having our lockers side by side. It went Jonas, Grant and then me.

"No, seriously, what does that mean?" I asked, as I pulled up at my locker.

Grant hung his head forward. "It means exactly what I said it means. I've already informed her about you and your womanizing ways."

"_My _womanizing ways? If you make her think I'm a womanizer than I'm curious to wonder what she thinks when she learns of your ways."

A girl's highly amused voice spoke up: "Oh, I'm aware of Grant's ways. It's extremely appalling."

I looked over my shoulder to see the girl who spoke: Cammie.

Grant rolled his eyes. "Whatcha want, cous?"

Now Cammie sighed and lifted up her timetable. "You're the one who wanted me to give you my timetable when I got it." She smiled mischievously. "Just following your overprotective, extremely bossy, orders, you know."

Grant ignored that one and stared at her timetable. Cammie turned to me.

"From what I can tell you must be Zachary Goode." Her gaze was one of knowledge.

I held out my hand. "It's Zach. And you must be the charming Cameron Morgan."

She shook my hand hesitantly, her gaze hardening at the mention of her full name. "It's Cammie." She looked over Grant's shoulder. "You must be Jonas." She walked around Grant and started talking to Jonas.

Grant glanced up from her timetable and gave a hard shake of his head. I rolled my eyes behind his back as Grant turned to face Cammie.

"Here you go." Grant passed the timetable over.

"I take it that it meets your approval?"

Grant rolled his eyes. "It never needed approving."

Cammie smirked then. "Well nonetheless; since you approved something of mine, I just want you to know that I approve of Bex."

Grant seemed to turn immobile.

_Oh, she's good_. _Just not Goode_.

"You met Bex?" he asked, incredulous not only in his voice but in his facial expression.

Jonas had put his head his locker to smoother his laughs. But I could still hear them.

"Sure," Cammie said, shrugging. "Locker buddies."

"What way?" I asked.

Cammie looked up at me and said, "You should know, locker buddy."

I hid my smirk knowing Grant would not put up with it one bit. Not one bit at all.

"But that's not the point," she said, turning her attention back to Grant and his gobsmacked expression. "I'm sitting with Bex at lunch, too, since she invited me. So there's no need to babysit me and keep me tucked under your wing."

_Bex invited her? _

Grant smiled. "Well if you are sitting with Bex then I guess you will be under my wing."

Cammie groaned. "Just don't kill anybody who tries to talk to me."

"Only if I approve."

"Only if you want Bex to know what happened on your sixth birthday."

Grant's smile froze and Cammie's widened. The bell rang and the halls were suddenly filled with people.

Cammie caught each of our eyes as she said, "Nice talking to you all."

And with that she walked off toward her class with the confidence as if she had been here all her life.

I closed my locker and leaned against it, smirking my signature smirk up at Grant.

"So _that's _what your cousin's like. I'm surprised you've managed to keep her hidden all these years since she seems to be like a force to be reckoned with."

"Oh, she is," Grant said. Then he frowned and stared at me again. "I mean it, Goode, leave her alone."

I pulled my hands up in surrender.

But obviously my word doesn't ever seem to be enough.

"I'm serious. As serious as I was when I told you to lay off Bex –"

"As if I have ever tried anything with her!"

" – because this isn't a joke. She's my family and I will protect her. She's here to pick straighten herself up and your influence is hardly anything that will help her."

I sighed. There was no point in arguing. Grant was being stubborn.

"Straighten out?" Jonas said, walking around Grant to stand between us.

He sighed. "Just keep this between us, alright?" We nodded our heads. "But Cam's dad died not too long ago and ever since she's been acting out. Her and her dad were close and her mum thought that if she was somewhere where her dad wasn't a constant reminder then she'll snap out of it."

"She seems fine to me," said Jonas.

Grant nodded and glanced over his shoulder where Cam had disappeared. "I don't know. She's confusing." He cut me another look. What was with this? I haven't even smirked as much since I woke up as he has cutting me _those damn annoying looks._ "And she needs _good _influence. Not Goode influence."

"Mr Newman, Mr Goode, and Mr Jennings, you're late for class. I suggest you move along now." None other than Mr Solomon said as he walked by us.

"Hey, isn't he, like, your God Uncle or something?" I asked, smirking at Grant.

Grant shrugged with a 'who in the world knows' look. "I dunno. I've only ever met the guy a couple of times outside of school. And that was before high school. But even then..." he shook his head. "Come on, let's get to class."

Grant slapped my shoulder as I walked past him and whispered, "Remember what I said, Goode."

Oh, yeah. I remember. That's the sixth time you've said 'stay away' in one form or another.

Man, if he keeps this up it's going to be a long year.

**So that's chapter one. Keep or dish? Also, if anybody can give me the appropriate dates for American schooling that would be great. Things like your seasons, when school ends and begins, and dances etc. Just stuff like that if you know it! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, everybody!**

**WOW! YOU GUYS ARE FLIPPING AMAZING! 26 REVIEWS! WHAT? AMAZING! I never expected such a response; it's exciting and absolutely terrifying at the same time! Now I feel like I'm under pressure ;D**

**Also, I forgot to mention in the first chapter that some of the characters (mainly Cammie) will be a little OOC. Sorry if that annoys anyone, but it needs to happen for the story.**

**Ellen.**

CHAPTER TWO-

CAMMIEPOV

"What do you mean you have practice?" I asked, as I leaned against Zach's locker, waiting for Grant. The halls were empty as school had finished twenty minutes ago. And I was still here.

I wonder if this is God's way of punishing me for not be Catholic? Stuck at school on your first day with your overprotective cousin while he has to wrestle with guys over a ball with no way home other than that said over-annoying cousin? Sure doesn't sound like something natural to me.

Grant sighed for the tenth time. "I mean what I say: I have football practice _right now_. Which, thanks to you, I am going to be late for."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't worry; I'm sure you can sweet talk your way out of that one. Blame me." I shrugged. "But what I want to know is if you drove me here how am I supposed to get home?"

Grant closed his locker and walked off. I trailed behind him.

"Grant," I said, my voice sweet and innocent, and put on my puppy expression.

Grant kept walking, pushing open the doors that led to the football field.

"Grant." I tried again, this time not very successful as my annoyance trickled through to my tone.

Grant stopped in the middle of the pathway, three steps away from the door, and spun around on his heel, his eyes squeezed closed. Over his shoulder I could see a group of boys stretching in the middle of the field.

"Ah... What are you doing?"

"No," he said, furiously shaking his head. "I will not fall for the puppy dog expression. No way. Never again. Not after what happened last time."

I giggled. "Grant, I'm not doing the puppy dog expression." Yeah, right.

"And I trust you because?" He still had his eyes closed.

"Because I'm your favourite cousin in the world and you love me _so, so much_."

Grant peeled one of his eyes open hesitantly. He dimly reminded me of the three little pigs who would peep out of their window, waiting for the big bad wolf to walk away. Except Grant wasn't a pig.

Though he certainly ate like one that's for sure.

"What is it that you want?" He sighed.

I spoke in a sing song voice: "I was wondering if I could drive home and you could get a life with one of your mates?"

"No." Grant practically growled.

"What? Why not? I have my license and I learned to drive when I was a _kid_. I'm more qualified than you would think."

He shook his head, hard. "No. There is no way you are driving my British Bombshell."

I raised an eyebrow. "Your British Bombshell?"

"It's her name," he said defensively.

"It's the name you used to describe Bex."

"And?"

"You name your car after your crush?"

Grant looked away, his cheeks slightly flaming. "Of course not," he said, scoffing. "I would never do that. That's just..."

"Stalkish? Weird? Insane? Stupid?"

"... Something her boyfriend should do."

"My suggestions were way more practical," I told him.

"No, they were not."

I shook my head. "I'm not going to argue with you on this one if you won't believe that I won. But we still have a problem: I'm trapped at school until your training finishes."

"Couldn't you get a lift home with Bex or Macey? Or even Liz?"

I ground my teeth together. "Yes, I could have if somebody had _told me_ that they had football practice after school."

"Well, you're not driving British Bombshell because she's my baby."

I threw my hands up in exasperation. "Well I'm not waiting until your training session ends to go home."

Just then, Mr Zachary Goode jogged up to the pile of bags, picked one up throwing it over his shoulder, and made his way toward us.

"Coach wants you." He nodded at Grant.

Grant gave me the daggers. "See? I told you that I would get in trouble."

"And I said 'blame me.' But I still need a way home."

"You can wait."

"I will not wait!"

"You're going to have to –"

"I can take her," a voice spoke up.

Our heads both spun around to the voice. Zach. He was offering me a ride home? Mentally, I laughed. As if Grant would ever let that happen. From what he made me promise he would rather that I sprain my ankle then be trapped in a small compartment with Zach Goode.

I watched with amusement as Grant gave Zach a hard look. Zach just rolled his eyes in response.

_Obviously he also shares my opinion of Grant's overprotective, annoying attitude_.

I sighed, placed a dramatic hand to my heart, and used those accents that all the Hollywood women used in the fifties. "Oh, don't worry about it, Granty. I'll just walk home and hope I don't get mugged." I sniffed and tears started to wield. _Man, I'm glad I took drama_. "And I'll hope that I won't be kidnapped; that I won't sprain my ankle. I hope that I'll make it home before Aunty decides that she should ground you for putting your innocent, lovely, and wonderful cousin through the trauma of walking home because you wouldn't let me take British Bombshell home."

"British Bombshell?" Zach asked.

I turned to him, accent gone. "He named his car after Bex."

Zach choked on his laughter.

Grant spun on me, his temper flaring. "I did not name her after Bex! I told you that it is only something –"

"Somebody stalky, insane, and weird would do? Oh, wait." I laughed. "Those were my suggestions."

Zach sobered up. "Grant, let me take the girl home. She needs a ride and I'm skipping out on practise today so it's no big deal. I made a promise. Besides, we're neighbours. Your parents trust me; Cammie trusts me; and you should trust me."

Promise? Neighbours? I trust him?

Huh.

You do learn stuff at school after all. Even if it isn't exactly educational by government standards.

"NEWMAN! HURRY UP!" The coach shouted.

Grant sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He turned to glare at Zach.

"You better not prove me wrong, Goode. I mean it."

I sighed. "I can look after myself, Grant," I mumbled.

Zach rolled his green eyes and began to walk away. Grant turned to me, worry thick in his eyes and instant guilt tripped through me.

"I'll be fine. Trust me."

Grant nodded his head and turned away.

"Oh, Grant?" I called, smiling.

Grant spun around. "What?"

"Think quick." I threw his car keys at him. He stared at the keys in confusion and began to frantically pat his pockets.

I walked away laughing.

Everything was tight. It wasn't the car that felt small – because it definitely wasn't. But the atmosphere felt tight and, well... awkward.

And it was all Grant's fault.

I was pretty damn sure that Grant hadn't only gotten his claws into me but in to Zach as well. What other promise could Grant have made Zach make besides the one that he made me do? What other promise could make a car ride with Zach so damn awkward?

The promise to stay away from each other romantically.

It was also Grant's fault because of his ridiculous car. I don't think I would too surprises to find him making out with the car at one stage in their 'relationship.'

But this is that's Grant was being ridiculous. Never in my fifteen – almost sixteen – years that we have both been alive has Grant ever done something as ridiculous at this. Sure, don't get me wrong, I love the fact that Grant's looking out for me and such. He's like my big brother.

But he was beyond ridiculous with this.

I mean, seriously? A promise.

God help me if he decides to keep me a virgin by handing me a damn ring.

"So," Zach said, dragging out the vowel.

"Huh?" I said, floating back down to Earth.

Oh, God, this is worse than I thought!

It was like watching a corny movie where you know that they know that each other knows whatever it is they know, but they avoid it. They say other things. They do stupid stuff they normally wouldn't do. But they do it because of what they know.

I'm not making any sense.

The radio was playing some god awful wannabe rap music as we pulled up to a red light. Kids walked across the zebra crossing, holding onto the pram that their parent's pushed.

I resisted the urge to tap my foot (something I do when I'm either worried, impatient, or in an awkward moment that I can gladly say right now would be a perfect example of).

"You promised him, didn't you?" I blurted out.

Crap. Why did I say that?

Zach's hands gripped the steering wheel, tighter and looser, tighter and looser, before he said, "Not in so many words. But yes, I made Grant a promise."

"Huh." Was all I said.

That's all you think of, Cameron? You're as bad as Grant when it comes to his 'British Bombshell.'

"Question questions," Zach said.

Raising an eyebrow, I said, "Huh?"

Is that the only word that's in your vocabulary?

He smirked and the red light turned green. "Let's play twenty questions."

"We won't finish in time."

Zach shrugged. "We'll just pick it up another time then."

"Okay," I said. "You first."

"Do you have any pets?" He asked.

"A cat named Suzi," I lied.

Hey, he never said we had to tell you truth!

"Birthday?"

"March the twenty-fifth." Zach hummed. "Favourite colour?"

"Purple. Or blue. Maybe even red." I frowned. "Those three."

Zach laughed. "You can't pick just one, can you?"

"Nope." I popped the 'p.' "Okay, my turn."

"No it's not," Zach exclaimed.

I laughed. "Yeah. You just asked 'you can't just pick one, can you?' That's a question. Therefore, it counts."

Zach grumbled under his breath.

"What's your favourite subject?" I asked.

"PE. Favourite sport?"

"Martial Arts. What's your desired unrealistic dream job?"

"Spy." Zach smirked. "Although I wouldn't say that's its unrealistic; especially for somebody as good as myself."

"Ugh," I said, sinking deeper into the leather seats.

"Favourite number?" He asked.

"Seven," I said. "How did you get this car?"

"It was a sixteenth birthday present."

"Cool."

Zach turned to me with a smile. "Oh, yeah, she is."

"Favourite animal?"

I groaned. "That's too hard! But I would have to say puppies. What's her name?"

Zach frowned and stray strands of brown hair fell around his face. "What's who's name?"

"Your car. Grant named his British Bombshell and my..." I choked on the word. "... dad named his car. So, what's the name of your car?"

Zach threw a smirk my way. "Suzi. The cars' name is Suzi."

"Suzi? Where'd that name come from?"

Zach laughed. "It's not your turn, Gallagher Girl."

I turned in my seat to face him. "Gallagher Girl? Where did _that _name come from? And how did you know about that?"

"Spy," Zach said, pointing at his chest as he winked.

I scoffed. "Whatever."

Suddenly the car stopped moving and the engine stopped rumbling. I glanced out the window, surprised, and back at Zach. We had parked in his driveway.

"That was quick," I said.

Zach smirked. "Time flies when you're having fun."

I scoffed. "I would hardly say being interrogated by you is fun."

He threw his head back and laughed. "Interrogated? If that's your definition of interrogation then you must be the worst interrogator ever."

"One of many definitions," I said, smiling.

The corner of my eye caught the sight of the kitchen curtain swinging close. I better go.

"Yeah, you should," Zach said, all laughter vanished from his tone.

"Huh?" I asked, turning back to him. "Did I say that out loud?"

Zach shook his head, a whisper of a smile passed over his lips as he looked out his window. I opened my car door and shut the door, Zach following suite.

I leaned over the car roof and said, "Thank you for the ride home."

Zach smirked. "I knew you would love it."

My eyes narrowed. "Watch it, Goode."

Slowly, I walked away, a billion questions on my mind, yet none of them answered.

**Well, there's chapter two. Hmmm. It wasn't very interesting in terms of progress but I don't think it was **_that _**bad. I tried to make the beginning of the car ride awkward (although I don't think I did very well on that side of the story.)**

**I have another few questions (although this is for you guys).**

**Do you like it when authors reply to your reviews? Would you rather that I did or didn't?**

**(Technically, that is a few questions, Lol.) :D**

**Also, I'm trying to get a few chapters ahead of this story so, hopefully, when I get reviews (if my lovely readers still review) I can give you teasers for the next chapters.**

**Ooh. I just thought of another question (or, well, request, too.):**

**Is there anything in the story you would like to see? (besides Zammie, obviously.) Have any ideas that you would think work with the plot line (or what little plot line there is)**

**Now, I think that is all.**

**Thanks for reading and everybody who reviewed! You guys are amazing! And tell me what you think. Do you have a favourite line or part so far? Any theories as to what's going to happen or how Cammie technically got kicked out of her boarding school, Gallagher ?**

**Oh, I just remembered:**

**To all those people who reviewed anonymously, sorry I cannot send you a PM. But just tell me if you want me to review and I will write my comment at the end of the next chapter. But only if you want me to.**


	3. Chapter 3

**So, I wasn't planning on posting anything anytime soon. I haven't even finished the next chapter (but I hope to do it later tonight when I've finished everything else *coughMathHomeworkcough*), but if not, I will definitely send out teasers once I finish the chapter. So if it takes a few days (or hell, even a few weeks) to reply to everybody then that's why. I just started school again and it's my top priority. **

**But I really wanted to post this chapter because I want to know your reactions! Also, a few announcements:**

**In the last post I said I would reply to anonymous reviews here in my authors note. Well, according to a fellow GG author, you can't or else your story might get taken down! So, I'm sorry about that. Really, I am.**

**Also, I've had a blog up and running for a while now (it's not about fanfiction, it's about by personal novels and such) and I thought I might post the link here in case you guys want to check it out. You'll get updates much faster about me and if you subscribe I will love you for eternity! **

**Also, I got to do an interview with Andrea Cremer, debut author of NIGHTSHADE which hits stores October 19****th****. (If you don't know what or who I am talking about google it!)**

**http:/ellen-faith(DPT)blogspot(DOT)com/2010/07/interview-with-andrea-cremer(DOT)html**

**and the normal link::**

**http:/ellen-faith(DOT)blogspot(DOT)com**

**Please check it out and I hope you'll enjoy the chapter!**

CHAPTER THREE

ZPOV

I stared up at my ceiling, unable to fall to sleep. Sleep would come to me in small doses, teasing me when I almost succumbed to it, before it was yanked out from underneath me like a rug.

It was really starting to annoy me.

Glancing over at my bedside table the red digits flashed at me brightly.

10:49

I groaned and stood up and changed in to some decent clothing, before I grabbed my basketball and quietly made my way downstairs. Sliding open the glass doors, I flicked on the outside light which eliminated the garden and my favourite place in the house (besides the bed which had just been downgraded to second): my basketball court.

As I stepped onto the court and bounced the ball with each step, I slowly floated away from everything that was reality. I was in my own little world, doing what I wanted, when I wanted. Every step, every bounce, and every score I made at the moment was for mine to take. When I stepped it was like I had springs underneath my shoes; I was floating on a cloud.

I leaped, my hand grabbing the edge of the ring as I slam dunked the ball.

"Impressive." A voice said.

I dropped to the ground and looked around. Sweat poured down my neck and made my hair stick to my forehead.

"Up here, silly." The voice said with a giggle.

I looked up and smirked instantly. Cammie.

"What are you doing, Gallagher Girl?" I asked, walking over and leaned against the fence, looking up at her. Cammie had covered herself up with a long, black silk robe that made her hair glow in the moonlight. She leaned her hip against the balcony's railing and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Some idiot decided to play basketball in the middle of the night and I couldn't sleep," she said with a shrug.

"Then you better tell that idiot to stop. After all, you need your beauty sleep."

"Actually, I was planning of stuffing the basketball in his mouth, but I doubt a basketball would even fit in his mouth. No matter how loud he can be."

"Ouch." I placed a fake hurt expression on my face and a hand to my chest. "I'm sure that that wonderfully charming man is going to be crushed by your accusation."

Cammie smirked. "It's only an accusation when it isn't true."

I shook my head, the hair falling into my eyes. "Believe it or not, but I don't think I even have a response to that one."

Her smirk widened and she shrugged. "I guess I'm just that good."

"You better watch out, Cameron, someday, somewhere, sometime, somebody's going to leave you speechless. And I'm going to be there."

She glowered. "Don't worry, _Zachary_," she sneered my name, "I'm sure that one day somebody will give it to you. And when they do I'll be there to record it and play it over and over again for my heart's content."

I raised a cocky eyebrow at her. "I knew it. You just want a picture of my beautiful face. I can hardly blame you. Though make sure you get a picture of the left side of my face. I've been told it's my better side."

She smiled then. It was a smile of snakes fangs, coated in venom that promised pain. And revenge. And trouble. "You really don't want to mess with me, Zach."

"And why's that?"

"Because at the moment I'm a teenage girl who is being deprived of her sleep by a cocky and annoying neighbour. Besides, I fight back."

I shook my head and bounced the ball on the grass once. "Well, then, you better hope that idiot stops playing basketball so you don't turn into a PMSing dragon of a teenage girl that we all know you can be." I smirked.

Cammie's eyes narrowed to slits, and at the moment she looked like a pissed off angel. A really pissed off angel who was hell bent on getting revenge.

I smirked and walked away, throwing a quiet, "Good night, Cameron," over my shoulder as I walked into the house and up to my room.

11:11

Make a wish, Goode. And make it a good one.

I slammed the locker door shut and glared at Grant in exasperation.

"Look, I understand that you're worried about your cousin and all. But relax. Nothing's happened and since you're the only one with any say, nothing is _going _to happen. So breathe and relax."

I walked off to homeroom.

"Then why are neither of you saying anything?" He persisted.

I stopped and spun on my heel. "We played an innocent, mundane game of Twenty Questions. That. Is. All." I kept walking, and tried terribly to keep the annoyance out of my steps.

Grant frowned. "Then why wouldn't she say anything?" His face blanked before it turned to an angry one. "If you tried anything –"

"No, I didn't," I hissed, glancing around. People were beginning to stare more so out of interest in the conversation and not interest in me. I grabbed Grant's arm and tugged him behind me. "Now let's go to homeroom."

"I just don't get why she didn't say anything if nothing happened!"

I sighed. "I don't know, Grant. Did you ask her?" We walked into homeroom and got our names marked off the role. Our teacher gave us a scolding look; we were late because of Grant.

"What do you mean?" His brow furrowed.

"I mean did you actually you the words, 'what happened in the car trip,' when you asked her?"

We sat in our seats and Grant turned to me. "Was I supposed to?"

"No, Grant, you were supposed to ask her what colour a rainbow is."

"But a rainbow isn't just one colour."

I groaned, rubbing my forehead, and sank into my seat as the bell went signalling our first subject.

PE: Mr Solomon's class.

CAMMIEPOV

I hesitated outside my Spanish classroom door as first period began. Slowly, the hallways became deserted as students rushed off to their classes.

"Um, Cam? I think you're supposed to actually go into the classroom, rather than just stare into it," Bex whispered as if it were the biggest secret in the world.

I turned to her, ignoring her comment. "What class do you have again?"

"PE." She smiled proudly. "And I kick major ass. We're supposed to be starting Self Defence. Why?"

"No reason." I smiled and walked in the direction of the office. "I'll catch up with you soon!"

The cool, air-conditioned air hit me unexpectedly and I found goose-bumps covering my skin. The office was bland with brown and white decorating it and a very sick palm tree in the corner by two brown waiting chairs. I walked up to the desk and smiled politely at the old lady, my feet were soundless as I walked over the carpet.

"Good morning. I was wondering if I could switch my first period class."

She huffed. "You should have chosen wiser when you started."

"I just got here." I said. The lady glanced up at me with an impassive face that was easily number three of impassive faces. "My name's Cameron Morgan." I tried again.

The lady blinked, frowning, before recognition covered her aged features.

Mary, her tag said. "Oh! You're Mr Solomon's Goddaughter."

I smiled angelically. "Yes, I am. I was wondering if I could move into the first period PE class. The thing is, I studied Spanish as my old school and I would like to try something else."

"Want to beat him up, in other words." The lady winked. "Alright, dear, just get Solomon to sign this and bring it back to me when you have your break and I'll switch you to PE."

"Thank you," I said, and walked out the door.

I knew my Godfather had some unnatural skills. But him being able to guess who was in the doorway (me) after they had just walked in (not even two steps), was seriously on the brink of unnatural becoming to out-of-this-world-unnatural.

"Ms Morgan, can I help you?" he asked, stopping his speech mid way.

I smiled and walked up to his side. "Actually, yes, Mr Solomon, there is." I mimicked his professional tone. "I need you to sign this to say that I can be transferred to this class."

Joe took the piece of paper out of my hand and read it in a few seconds. I looked over the crowd and winked at Bex who had a devilish grin on her face.

"Why should I sign this, Ms Morgan?"

This whole Ms and Mr thing was getting old pretty fast.

"Because I find there is no point to sitting in a classroom re-learning something that I don't need to when I can be active and healthy and learn to defend myself."

"You already know how," he said in a bored tone.

I frowned and my tone lightened. "I need to refresh my skills. You wouldn't want me to have to walk home one day, get mugged or kidnapped simply because I couldn't defend myself, would you, Mr Solomon?"

I could see Grant bristle, his whisper drifting towards us: "Don't fall for it! She did it to me, too. She's evil. Ouch!" Bex had punched Grant. "I'm trying to help him! He doesn't know what he's getting in to. Don't fall for tone, Sir! Stay strong."

Too late.

Mr Solomon signed the note. "You have a pair of clothes, then?"

I smiled. "Of course I do." I patted my bag which I had put in my spare clothes on my way towards the indoor gym.

"Then change."

I changed in a record time and sat down by Bex on the bleachers. The indoor gym was more of a podium. Rows of seats sat across from one another, surrounding the basketball court which I had no doubt our team had won countless games on. But every movement that was made practically echoed in the building.

"... If I hear about anybody using these moves outside of my classroom on school grounds and or use the words practise as an excuse, you will find yourself suspended and cleaning up after the Friday night football matches. Am I understood?"

Choruses of 'yes' and 'okay' echoed in the court.

"Good. I will be paring you up in random pairs. If you did not fit with your partner, then I will change you. But only _I _will change you."

He went through a list of names before he reached mine: Ms Morgan and Mr Hathaway.

Solomon went on to perform basic defensive move that I had seen – and done – countless times before at Gallagher (the school had most unusual class subjects ever!).

"Now go!"

I stood up, whispering words of good luck to Bex, as I made my way down to one of the blue mats that had been placed around to prevent any injuries.

But I can't guarantee anything.

A hand tapped me on the shoulder and I didn't hold back. I grabbed their wrist and flipped the body over, the person giving an 'oompf' as their back hit the blue mat.

"I'm Cammie," I said, smiling down at the person.

The guy stood up, ruffling his blond hair. He had the brightest blue eyes I had ever seen.

"I'm Marc," he said, a smile on his face, as he held out his hand.

I shook his hand and Marc – surprisingly – pinned my hand behind my back and tripped me down to the floor. I huffed and rolled over, pinning his arm underneath my back and jumped up before I pounced, pinned him down, and pinned his arm behind his back as he had done to me a moment before. Except this time I was smart and didn't leave an opening.

Out of my vision I could see a pair of Italian leather shoes tap against the floor. Sheepishly, I smiled up at Joe and shrugged.

"He left an opening."

Joe sighed and glanced around.

"Mr Goode will switch with Mr Hathaway."

I got off Marc, helping him up with a small smile and a shoulder shrug. Marc walked in Zach's direction, rolling his shoulder in small circles, rubbing at it with his hand.

Quickly, I glanced around and watched as Bex pinned the arm behind a guy and cheered, 'I got you again!' with the enthusiasm of a two year old at Christmas.

"Wow, Morgan, what a way to let a guy down," Zach said, as he stood at the edge of the blue mat, watching Marc walk away.

I felt bad.

But not bad enough to miss the opportunity of getting that damn smirk off his face !

I swiped my feet under his. Except it didn't do the way I planned. Zach jumped and grabbed my shoulder, turning me around. I lifted my knee up to his stomach and pushed him away at the shoulder.

Zach stumbled back a step but didn't fall like I had expected.

"Not so easy am I, Gallagher Girl?" His breath hit my cheek, his breathing was laboured, and I was suddenly aware of how close he was and how much of me and him were in physical contact.

He's just trying to get to you, I told myself. Don't let him get under your skin, no matter what. But it didn't matter. But he was right. He wasn't easy. And so I did the only thing I thought was reasonable at the time: I grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him in closer.

And kicked the back of his knee, causing him to fall (there was no way I was letting him beat me. No. Way. In. Hell). I spun around grabbed both arms and kept him levitating in the air. But that didn't last for long, obviously.

Zach seemed to be pretty determined not get beaten by a girl like Marc had – or at least not as bad as Marc had, because he rolled us over, and flipped himself so he on top. The asshole continued by rolling me over and grabbed my hands in his and dangled them in front of me.

"I've been doing this since I was two, Gallagher Girl. You're not going to win." He whispered, leaning forward.

I chuckled. "That's what you think."

Then with all my strength thrown into the force, I pushed my hands forward at his nose and missed by millimetres.

Zach had, however, leant back far enough that I was able to slip my right foot out from under him and strike him in the chest. This time Zach fell like I had been expecting.

I leaped again and put the majority of my weight on Zach's leg – keeping him tied down like an anchor – and held his hands behind his back.

I leant forward and whispered in his ear. "And as you've said I'm a Gallagher Girl. And we don't go down without a hard fight."

I was suddenly very aware of the audience that we had captured. People were cheering, chuckling, and the majority of the guys were shaking their heads at Zach.

Joe walked over, chuckling. "You can stop injuring my students now, Ms Morgan."

I let Zach go, giving him a mock rub of his hair and smiled. Zach mock glowered up at me and I very maturely stuck my tongue out at him.

Solomon now addressed the rest of the class: "Class will be ending in ten minutes. I suggest you take showers and for those who need it" – Joe looked at Zach, Marc and the poor boy Bex fought with – "the first aid kit will be available in the PE office."

With that were dismissed.

**So, did I fall anybody? Please say I did! That would totally make my day! :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey people!**

**So, I realise that I never sent out any teasers. And I'm sorry for that. But I, quite literally, just finished typing up this chapter and I couldn't wait to get it out. Sorry if it seems a little rushed or anything like that. But I want to say one thing: WOW GUYS! The reviews you send me (both comments and the amounts) are amazing. And I'm sorry, again, that I haven't replied to any of them this time round. But I'm typing the next few chapters until I finish so you should definitely get some teasers this time round!**

**Ellen.**

**P.S The page breaks don't seem to be working for me.**

CHAPTER FOUR

CAMMIE POV

"Isn't it a little late in the sign ups?"

I shrugged my shoulders and continued to stare at the board that was overfilled with pins up for extra curriculum points. Signs overlapped one another except for the major activities that had their own pin up boards away from the others. Not all the signs were for activities though; some were standard community board notices.

"I was just looking," I said, glancing over my shoulder. Joe looked sceptical besides me. "There's nothing wrong with that."

He stepped forward and stared at the signs too, crossing his arms over his chest. "I didn't say there was. But I know what you're looking for and it's not there."

I sighed but kept looking. "And what's that?"

Joe chuckled, shaking his head. "You don't need to improve on your martial arts, Cam. You just need to keep practising them so you don't forget. And you won't. You're a Morgan."

"But I was rusty. Zach almost took me."

"But he didn't," he countered.

I groaned. "You seem to be missing the point here, Joe. I haven't practised anything from Gallagher since I... left at the end of the school year. And now I'm rusty. How am I supposed to prove myself if I'm rusty and keep letting everybody down?"

Joe blinked. "Cam, what are you talking about?"

I shook my head, taking in deep, shallow breaths. "Nothing. I'm sorry." I wiped my face clean of any depressing emotions. "Hey, are we still on for Sunday? I learnt a few tricks over the break that I'm sure will wipe you off your feet."

**PAGE BREAK**

The past few weeks had been uneventful. I kept my promise to Grant, made some friends, stayed out of trouble, kept my grades up, and barely ever spoke to Zach unless I really needed to. I spend my Sunday mornings with Joe training in numerous things that had been taught at Gallagher. Although Joe's never thought at Gallagher, he and... dad...grew up together doing the sort of things I had been taught there. I didn't wipe him off his feet, though. It turned out my new trick was a thing of the past for him.

So, so far school has remain uneventful – minus the bunch of insane people who are currently running around screaming for our football team since we played at home today. The school had been decorated with our team colours – red, white, and silver – which belonged to the Wildcats.

"CAMMIE!" All three girls screamed at me, charging at me.

Each one of them took turns in strangling me – Bex being the hardest – by my locker.

I gasped as she stared at my clothing. "Where is your team spirit, girl? Good thing we've prepared your outfit!" She squealed.

I glanced down at Bex, I, and Liz who were all wearing some definition of team spirit.

"What?" I asked, glancing down at my outfit. "I'm wearing clothes that are appropriate for school."

"And not appropriate for team spirit!" She scolded.

Liz rolled her eyes. "Ignore her, Cam. She's going to put you in something team spirit whether you want her to or not."

I sighed and gave I my best puppy dog look. "You don't suppose I could get out of it, do you?"

I's gaze hardened, crossed her arms over her chest, and gave me a hard look while the other girls laughed.

"No, Cammie. There isn't. Now we have to get moving; we only have a few hours." I grabbed my hand, Bex grabbed my bag, and Liz closed my locker as I was dragged away to torture.

Too many minutes later afterwards I was I McHenry approved team spiritified (Yes, I realise it isn't a word. But when it comes to fashion there is no arguing with I what so ever – even when it involves the English language) with a jersey that I knotted at the waist so you could see my black denim jean shorts, and gladiator shoes. I had explained to me that the group has their own way of celebrating each game. We would each pick a jersey out of a box that had a number and a last name on the back of the shirt; I was then told that we had to wear that jersey for the period of the game and afterwards. The boys (coincidentally) were the ones who came up with the system saying that 'as members of the group we all had to support one another and that includes wearing the guys jersey and cheering like a bunch of fan girls even if we weren't.' The tradition went on with that after each game one of the members who hold a celebration get together (a guy way of saying sleepover) whether we won or lost; tonight it was Grant's (and apparently mine now, too) turn to hold the sleepover.

It was fun, weird, wacky, and totally insane. Which is exactly why I loved it- except for tonight.

The stands were filled with people to the point that it looked like everybody were sitting on top of one another.

"Let's go and wish the boys good luck," Bex said, a bright smile on her face.

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever excuse gets you into a male's change room where you can see half naked boys."

Bex gasped. "It is our tradition that we support the boys in every way possible!" But she was ignored.

"No, no," I said. "You mean any excuse that gives Bex the chance to see a half naked Grant Newman."

A week or two ago, Bex had come out and said what she really thought of Grant (needless to say it wasn't the way you want to picture your cousin.).

"Ewww," I said, laughing at Bex's reddened face. "That's gross. He's my cousin, guys!"

"Some friends you girls are." Bex huffed and walked away.

We jogged up ahead, laughing, and I linked my arm through Bex's as we walked pass the beginning of the bleachers.

"Oh, come on, Bex. We're just mucking around." I bumped my hip against hers. "Besides, you need us to be there with you when you get all gobsmacked by the chest of a well built football team."

"Or a certain Quarter Back team player," Liz said, giggling as she linked her arm on Bex's left. I joined with Liz.

Bex grumbled. "I don't care what you girls think. I'm going off to give our team good luck. Whether you chose to come or not is your own decision. But remember that these boys are well built, cared for, masculine males who are..." Bex sighed. "Dreamy."

"I'm going to pretend that you did not just say that about my cousin."

Bex winked, disentangled herself from our linked parade and waltzed into the boys change room. "It's not just Grant that I'm talking about," she called over her shoulder.

"Cover up the south, boys! Bex is in the room!" She called down, giving the boys two seconds before she kicked the door open and walked in.

I swear my jaw dropped. I followed suite, leaving Liz and I standing there alone.

"Are we supposed to go in?" I whispered, looking to Liz.

"I don't know," she said, her southern accent faint over the roaring crowd.

I took a deep breath and linked my arm with hers. "If I don't make it... I just want you to know that you're my only – and first – southern best friend." I pretended to get teary.

Liz rolled her eyes, laughing. "Well I want you to know that you're my first – and only – friend that's ever ... ever... not known how to hack into a CIA database."

"And everybody else does?"

Liz laughed. "I'm playing with you. Of course we don't. Well, not yet anyway."

I looked over at the stadium and caught the familiar lock of black hair. "There's Jonas. Do you want me to pass on your good luck?"

Liz blushed. "Thank you, Cam!" She said, and made her way toward Jonas.

Those two were cuter than puppies.

Taking a deep breath of courage (and of plain clean air because I had no idea what to expect with the guys change room), I walked down the green, lawn slope and in to the room. The change room had gray used lockers lined on the wall and a row in the middle of the room, each with a last name at the top and a number.

Bex and I were in the corner talking to Max and Grant.

A hand brushed my hair to the side and I turned around.

"Looks like you'll be my cheerleader for the night, Gallagher Girl." Zach smirked.

"The luck of the draw," I said, studying his face. "So how's your body tonight?"

Zach's eyes narrowed. "Better. No thanks to you."

I smiled sweetly. "Not my fault you're so reckless as to underestimate me."

He snorted in response and ran a hand through his brown hair. That was when I realised that Zach was shirtless and how good he looked shirtless. His chest was muscled and well... to be totally honest he looked hot. Greek God type hot; although according to Bex that title had already been taken. Ew.

"I'll be sure not to make that mistake again then," he said. Looking back at me there was a gleam in his eyes that said he knew that I had pretty much just been checking him out.

Busted.

"You were good though, I'll give you that much," he continued.

"Like I care about what you think. Besides, there's nothing else I need to improve on. I've already kicked your ass."

I looked away and bit the insides of my cheeks to keep myself from smiling.

Zach leaned down a little closer to my ear. "Well I can give you a few suggestions if you want. Your stealth, for one, needs a little more work."

My breath came in a gasp and I just struggled for a comeback. And it wasn't even that good of one on my half.

"Maybe I didn't want to be stealthy."

I was accurately aware of the fact that both Zach and I were breathing in deeply and our bodies were frozen as I whispered those words in his ear.

_Shit! What am I _doing?

Stepping back (when had I stood on my tippy toes?) I said, "Good luck in the game. Win this one for us."

Zach straightened and grabbed his shirt from the hanger. "I don't need luck. I'm Goode."

"You use that way too much." I rolled my eyes and walked away to wish the other guys good luck in the first game of the season and made our way through the stands to sit by Liz and Jonas who were currently talking in a computer language that I couldn't even repeat to try and translate to English.

"Here," I said, handing us some loud noise making instruments. I grabbed the handle of one of them and tried to remember where I had seen one of them before. The instrument had three hand shapes so when you shook it, it would clack together loudly.

The name escapes me right now.

"Thanks, Mace," I shouted over the crowd. The crowd yelled louder as our team made their way from their locker room, pumping their fists in the air. The crowd dimmed- though you could hardly notice- when nothing had happened, but when the foot ball went soaring through the air and the game began.

**PAGE BREAK**

I laughed as I turned the lock of the door and the others flooded in behind us making havoc with their every step. I flicked on the light, unwinding my scarf from my neck and everything else I could that didn't reveal more skin than necessary, and made my way to the kitchen. The house was dark and rather empty.

I opened up the fridge, grabbing a can of soft drink and closed the door before I noticed the note that was attached to it.

Kids,

Behave yourselves tonight. I know that it's game night here so have fun. There's money in the cookie jar for pizza and drinks. Tells the guys I wish them good luck and congrats on their win. (I swear my aunt was physic) Don't disturb the neighbours. We've been invited to go out with friends, so not too sure when we get in. Although dad says early in the morning no doubt about it.

Love you guys lots,

Mum.

I scrunched the note up and tossed it in the bin as I made my way to the renovated lounge room. Everybody was moving the couches around, preparing food and drinks, and laying their sleeping gear out.

"Grant," I called out. Grant popped up from behind the sofa.

"Yeah?"

"There was a note. They won't be home until the early hours of the morning so we have the place to ourselves. There's money for pizza, too."

People whispered 'yes', high fived, and went back to their work. I turned on my heel and made my way up to my bedroom, before stopping on the third step and trudging back down to lean around and shout out to the guys.

"And aunt says congrats on the win. Don't ask how she knows," I added, making my way back upstairs. I changed into some long gray pyjama pants and wore a blue spaghetti strapped top with a blue and silver decorated butterfly in the corner.

When I made my way to the lounge room everything had been set up. Makeshift beds were in a circle surrounding a table with drinks and appetizers on them. The girls sat on one side, leaning over a magazine, and the boys sat on the other, just talking. I made my way over to the girls and squeezed my way in the middle.

"Which bed is mine?" I asked.

Macey, who was on my right, knocked her head backwards. "That one besides me."

"'K."

I jumped over Macey who threw her pillow at me as I settled in and glanced around the room.

"Anybody ordered pizza yet?"

Max and Kevin (the guy Bex bashed in PE- and he still hasn't fully recovered) looked up and over at me. Kevin frowned and glanced into the kitchen where banging noise was coming from.

"I think Grant's doing it now..."

I jumped up from my spot and made my way into the kitchen. Grant and Zach stood there, leaning over a pizza menu, with Zach holding the phone. From the glimpses of their conversation I would say that they debating what pizza to order. I intersected and in one hour we were all on the floor, eating various types of pizza, watching Jason Bourne movies.

"I'm bored," Bex whined, grabbing the remote and turning the screen of.

"Hey!" We all screamed.

Bex rolled her eyes and turned to us. "Come on, guys! This is so _boring_. Not only have we seen this movie at least a dozen times –"

"It's a good movie!" I interceded.

" – and I have a much better idea as to what we could b doing right now." Bex paused dramatically before the excitement she had oh-so-obviously holding in broke through her calm exterior and she clapped and squealed. "Truth or dare!"

Well crap.

**PAGE BREAK**

We sat around in a circle and I could feel my heart beating hard, trying to break out from underneath my skin. At this current moment Rebecca Baxter seemed to be the most evil person on the world. And it wasn't that hard to convince anybody with that devilish smile that she was wearing.

Bex lied down on her elbows and looked at the group with narrowed eyes. "I'm first," she declared. "And my first victim is ... Kevin. Truth or dare?"

Kevin grinned. "Dare, Baxter. Bring it on."

Baxter chuckled, and for a moment I could see her doing a witches cackle while dancing on a dead body. I shivered at my own thoughts. Bex sat up and reached around her pulling clothes out of her bag.

"I dare you to wear this for the remainder of the sleepover."

Bex threw the clothes at him and Kevin held them up for everybody to see. I choked back a laugh at the skimpy clothes. Bex had given him an already barely there black denim mini skirt, and a hot pink boob tube. The guys laughed and I couldn't hold it in any longer. Kevin gave daggers at Bex as he stood up, walked out of the room, and got changed. Needless to say he looked ridiculous. It was obvious that guys weren't made to wear girls clothing, but muscled guys who were bigger or leaner than most... well, it made everything twice as bad.

Macey snapped a photo and giggled. Kevin sat down and ran a hand through his blond hair in frustration.

"Wow, Kevin," I said, "I never realised what great legs you had." We laughed harder.

Kevin glowered at me. "Your turn, Cam. Truth or dare?"

My laughter died instantly and I took deep, calming breaths. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap.

"Dare." I knew of the groups' curiosity behind me coming here from Gallagher and that was one thing I was _not _going to explain. No matter what. I would rather streak down the street.

He laughed, throwing his head back. "Oh, Cameron, you chose wrong."

I glowered at him when he said my full name. "Really? Why? I would look hotter than you in anything you put me in."

"That might be the case... If I were going to make you wear something. Which I'm not."

"Stop delaying already," Macey snapped. She, along with the rest of the group, seemed to have leaned forward in anticipation.

"I dare you to do seven minutes in heaven. With whomever I choose."

**Hehe. Whatcha think? Do you like the sexual tension? Sorry I didn't elaborate much on the game, but I have no idea what happens in American football (that's not even what it's called, is it). The next chapter is continued from now and you will be able to see Cammie and Joe outside of school environment. Also, who will be Cam's seven minutes in heaven partner do you think? ;D**

**Ellen.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Helllllo!**

**Sorry for the absence. Really, I am. I've had school, but soon, I get a week holiday and I promise to write like mad! I think I mention this in about every AN but OH MY GOSH! 120 reviews! WOW! WOW! WOW! WOW! You guys are THEBEST EVER! Sorry if it feels repetitive, but it's true. **

**Also, the Winter Gallagher Girl Awards are on! Go to Kelsey Goode and follow the links to nominate your favourite story in the categories accordingly! **

**I don't know if you all got the chapter sneak peeks before you got this, but oh well. Lol. **

**MAJOR NEWS: I've started a new story. I will be called Playing Hide and Seek with Spies. And it IS a spy story, though it doesn't revolve around it. Nor does it revolve around romance. Or the Circle of Caven. Hmmmm... What does that mean, aye?**

**You shall have to read to find out (Hint hint nudge nudge ;D!)**

**But here we go:**

CHAPTER FIVE

CPOV

"_WHAT?_" Grant hissed dangerously.

Kevin blinked and his 'I've-got-you-now-sucker-grin' disappeared quicker than a batch of Grant's mum, Theresa, freshly baked cookies. And with Grant and I around now, they go _quickly_.

The air was still and frozen just like me. The girls waited anxiously with hawk grins on their faces. This would be classic to them. And no doubt that if everything went through the way they hoped then it would be classic gossip, too.

I gave a quick glance at Grant and wished I hadn't. The blood had rushed to his face in anger and his hands were clenched in front of him. I felt sorry for the blanket he was suffocating. Even lying down you could see his muscles flex as he most likely imagined the worst pain he could give to Kevin.

If I wasn't frozen still I would have laughed in his face, which would have made me laugh harder because the look on his face was priceless.

We were all silent, waiting for something to happen. Don't ask me what, because I didn't know.

Grant took deep breaths and I stared at him through my eyelashes, needing to see his face but not wanting to directly look at him. Where Grant was involved I always treaded water carefully.

"What did you say?" he spoke slowly.

Kevin gulped, but to give him credit he didn't back down. "I said Cammie's dare is to do seven minutes in heaven with whomever I choose."

Grant closed his eyes and his fists closed tighter around the blanket if that were possible. His knuckles had turned white too.

"Are you _sure _that's what you said?"

He was giving Kevin a way out. For a moment I was startled, surprised that Grant would do such a thing. But then another thought made itself known: this was his team. He wouldn't choose me over his team, his long life friends, his 'crew,' would he?

Kevin glanced at me but I wasn't looking at him. I was trying to talk to Grant with my eyes. But damnit he needed to look at me for that to happen!

"Yes."

I sucked my breath in through my teeth and when Grant opened his eyes he looked lethal. Grant stood to his feet and I leaped to my feet, as did the guys surrounding Grant, and tried to push Grant back.

"Stop it, Grant," I warned. "You are _not _doing this! It's just a damn game! _STOP!_"

Grant was shaking at this point. I noticed that Zach held Grant on his right and Max was on his left. I looked at Zach and nodded to the kitchen. Zach seemed to understand and he hauled Grant back into the kitchen. The moment I couldn't hear Grant's footsteps I heaved with relief and turned to stare at Kevin.

He looked like he had wet his pants.

"Are you going to pick somebody or not? And don't think I'll forget this." I jerked my head backwards so he knew exactly what I'm talking about. I hadn't saved his pretty face for nothing, you know.

Kevin nodded his head and I glanced down at the girls who just stared back at me with open mouths. It was only a game that everybody played; a game where everybody did something they would regret; a game that always proved something of somebody. It was my turn to prove myself.

He looked around the group, his eyes skipping the girls (or else I would have let Grant kill me), until the fell on a head that I hadn't taken any notice of.

"Marc," he said.

Marc hit his forehead, sighed, and stood up. I walked down the hallway and into the surprisingly large closet. Marc followed me and the door closed with a click.

Nothing happened.

The closet was squishy and I couldn't move an inch without hitting something. The air was hot and it made me feel like I was wearing seven jumpers. I had no doubt that the guys knew this and used it to their advantage. It would have been an easy way to get a girl shirtless.

Grant's such a perve.

"So..." he dragged out the vowel.

I mimicked him. "So..."

"This is, uh –"

"Awkward?"

"Yeah," he agreed.

I blinked a couple of times and my eyes seemed to adjust to the light a little bit better. His hair looked black in the dark and I could just see his tanned skin, light enough to know that his face had cleared up in the time since my first PE lesson; but, then again, he didn't get anything near as bad as Zach or Kevin.

I moved my foot forward to stand in a shoulder width position. But when my foot hit the ground it was rubbery and round and I slipped up. My hands reached forward and hit the door; my body turned and my leg hit his shin; I felt his hands reach out to me, but he was off by miles, off in the opposite direction. His body fell and suddenly my body was squished, toys poked my back and then (it was all very sudden I shall warn you) a pair of lips were pressed onto mine.

For a moment my body reacted against my moral standards because I could feel our lips move together. My hands touched his shoulders and one of his hands went around my waist and his tongue licked my lips, asking for access. I almost gave in when I realised what exactly was happening and I pulled back, pushing God knows how many pounds off me.

"What. The. Hell?" I hissed.

I couldn't see him in the dark, but before a moment I imagined him occupying a smirk on his face.

_Don't think like that!_

"Sorry," Marc said. I could see (more accurately hear) him try to get up as toys squeaked underneath his weight. "But to be far you kissed me back."

"And to be far I didn't want to be here in the first place."

Marc snorted. "You always could have used your IOU on Kevin now so you didn't have to do this."

"Clearly I wasn't thinking straight at the time," I snapped. Damn it. I seriously should have thought of that. I sighed, running a hand through my hair and mumbled, "I'm sorry."

I could see his white teeth when he smiled. "No worries."

"Live and forget?"

"Agreed."

It was silent for a moment before I asked, "has it been seven minutes yet?"

I could hear Marc patting his pockets as he pulled out his phone. He flicked it open and the light illuminated his face brighter than before. He gulped as he looked at me, his eyes fearful. "It's been ten."

"_Shit_."

**(PAGE BREAK!)**

My fist hit the bag again as I thought about Friday night. My body was covered in a light coat of sweat and I spun on my left foot to give the blue punching bag a round-house kick. The bag flew away, held up by a point in the ceiling.

"That's enough, Cam."

I sighed and caught the bag as it tried to flatten me. I turned to Joe. "Ten more minutes."

Joe shook his head. "No way. You're a killing machine today. And as much I would rather that you killed the bag instead of people, you're injuring yourself in the process."

I glanced out the window and took note that the sun had barely changed position as I checked a few minutes before, before glancing back at my scared hands. The skin had been scrapped and the fabric around my knuckles had broken, small drops of blood seeped through; my hands stung but I hardly noticed. I looked around Joe's personal gym and sighed at the clock.

It was only eight in the morning.

"Come here," Joe said, gesturing at the seat across from him.

I sighed and sat down on the seat. Joe pulled out bandages, some cleaning materials, and cotton wool from his first aid kit and began to dab at my hands. The disinfectant, I realised as I stared at the brown tinted bottle, stung my knuckles and a pained hiss slithered passed my teeth quietly.

"Have you spoken to your mum?" he asked, still staring at my hands.

I shake my head before realising that he cannot see me. But he seemed to have noticed anyway.

"You should call her."

"I'm fine. There's nothing new to talk to her about anyway." I breathed in deeply, dimming my anger as much as possible.

"What if she's worried?" He looked up at me then, dropping my hands into my lap and crossing his arms. He leaned back into the seat. I rubbed at my knuckles lightly; they'd be bad tomorrow.

"Then _she _should call _me_." Drop it, Joe. Please, I added silently.

"She's running an all girls boarding school, Cammie. It's not like she has that much free time. She's probably running on a tight schedule. Try calling her when it's the right time."

I stood. "Then obviously she wouldn't have enough time to answer my call, let alone listen to my countless messages, and call me back; because it's never the right time." I stalked over to the punching bag and swung at it with all my might, giving a soft cry at the end.

I could feel Joe standing right behind me. That static in the air rose. I stared at him over my shoulder, and the look he gave me was the reason why I'd known he was my God father. It was the side that people didn't see to him at school. The side that only family saw. It was love.

"Have you been calling her?" he whispered softly.

I stared down at the ground and shook my head, clenching my eyes shut as tears threatened to over flood.

"I tried" – my voice cracked – "when I first got here but she never answered. After that" – I shrugged – "I haven't tried since."

Joe shook his head. "Give your mum time, Cam. What happened at Gallagher was big for her. She is so proud of what you've done there, you know that."

"She was. And now she's not. She's so damn disappointed that she gave me away to my aunt and uncle – without hearing my side of the story!"

"You know that's not true."

I spun around fully. "Of course it's true! She hates me and she'll hate me forever! She doesn't care that I'm in pain about it, too. She doesn't care I love dad just as much as her. She just _ignored _me." My hands were clenched into fists as their sides and my body was quivering. "She bluntly ignored me infront of everyone! Every time I tried to talk to her; she wasn't there. I tried, Joe, I really did. But when I needed her, where was she? Gone. When I need a shoulder to cry on? Too busy. When I needed a mother to talk to?"

My breathing was laboured and I choked down the rest of my words.

I whispered, "it's not dad that's dead; its mum. She hasn't been the same since. And I know that what I was doing after that didn't help, but it wasn't mum who stayed with me when she was off at Gallagher being the headmistress. It was dad. It wasn't mum who I went to when I had troubles; it was dad. It was dad who dealt with everything about school. Dad who stayed home and made me dinner, did the washing, you practically raised me. It was dad who made me who I am today.

"And now he's gone, and she's supposed to be the only one left. But she isn't there. She never really was."

Joe pulled me into a hug, breathing into my hair. I sobbed that day. More so than I ever have before in front of somebody. Those emotions... I never wanted anybody to see them. I never wanted people to know the truth about me.

Because you can only get hurt when somebody knows you.

**So, we learn a little bit about Cammie and her mum's relationship. And I know a lot of you were expecting a longer chapter, but I don't really like forcing out bigger chapters. That's just my belief. But there is a purpose to EVER chapter. Even fluff ones. I have a rough outline for this story up until about chapter fifteen, and I'm adding to it constantly. **

**Thank you everybody soooo much for the reviews!**

**Ellen.**

**Don't forget to R&R and check out the GG Awards!**


	6. Chapter 6

**So, I was going to update yesterday, but FF was being a pain! **

**And once again, thank you for all the amazing reviews. It's great to see that you're all enjoying the story that much that you're reviewing and telling me what you really think.**

**Before you read this chapter, I would like to dedicate chapter six to Kelsey Goode who nominated That's What You Get in the 2010 GG Awards for the Most Fantastic AU (Alternate Universe). THANK YOU KELSEY!**

**And people, if you want a story nominated NOMINATE! Think it deserves recognition? Nominate. Think it's the best thing ever? Nominate.**

**And that's enough of Ellen's attempt at advertising.**

**I now present to you: Chapter Six.**

**Also, this chapter hasn't been edited. Sorry.**

CHAPTER SIX

CAMMIE

I closed my locker door shut before I lean my forehead against it, my right hand fingers splayed across its surface. I drown out the chatter and noise as I breathed in and out. Please don't let anything bad happen today. Please.

I opened my eyes and looked to my right where Bex is watching me curiously.

"You alright?" she asked.

I nodded my head. "Yep. Fine." I slam my palm against the locker. People around us look over and Bex flipped them the bird.

She sighed. "Cammie, I'm not going to force you to talk to me, but you know that I'm here for you."

"I know," I sighed. "And I'm sorry, it's just... Just something Joe said the other day."

"_You should call her."_

"Joe?" She frowned.

I rolled my eyes, clarifying, "Solomon."

"Oh." Her eyes widened before she laughed. It sounded like bells chiming. "Forgot he was your god father."

"So does every other male it seems," Grant said coming up from behind us. I rolled my eyes and double checked the workbooks I had in my hand.

"We better go," I said, giving Bex 'that look'.

Bex nodded her head and turned to go when Grant reached out a grabbed my arm lightly.

"Actually," he said, "I need to talk to you. Now."

Bex turned around but I waved her on and turned around to face Grant. His face was angry but in his eyes I saw the worry he concealed. I was his cousin and he had 'obligations' to me; I knew he felt like he was doing the right thing when he protected me. I knew that. So why did I feel like I was trapped more than ever?

"Yeah?" My voice was small and I no longer felt confident. Instead, I felt guilty.

Dammnit.

"Where were you this weekend?" he asked straight out.

"I decided to stay with Joe. I just needed some time alone."

He nodded, looking away for a moment before looking back at me. "Okay. But what happened with Mason?"

"It's Marc."

Grant rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You know who I mean."

My shoulder leaned against the locker. "So, what is it that you want?"

He spoke with the '_duh_' tone. "I want to know what happened between you and Marc."

"Nothing," I lied, staring straight at him. I had always been a good liar. And if Grant believed me, the person who knew me the best despite the fact that we hardly knew each other, then I knew I was too good.

He stared at me, his eyes flickering all of my face: my eyes, my forehead, and my chin. What, did he think I would burst into tears and sweat if I lied?

No.

I was too smart for that one.

"Are you sure?"

I sighed. "Yes, Grant, nothing murder worthy happened."

_Little white lies shouldn't hurt _too _much if he never found out the truth_.

Grant ran a hand through his hair as he sagged against the locker. "Oh, thank God." He looked at me sideways. "Marc's a cool kid. I didn't want to have to hurt him."

I rubbed my hand over my eyes and groaned. "Grant. You didn't have to hurt him in the first place!"

Grant shrugged his shoulder and looked around. Everyone had disappeared.

"Look," I said, straightening, "We'll talk more about this later. But right now I have English and I'm now very late. So, goodbye and I'll see you at break."

I spun around and marched down the hall.

"Good luck!" Grant called out. Confused, I ignored him. I could still hear his faint chuckle when I turned the corner and walked into an empty English classroom.

**BREAK**

I walked down the auditorium pathway, light on my feet. Our English teacher, Mrs Burdette, stood behind the directors' desk in the crowd. The class stood up on the stage. I caught Bex's eye and as Mrs Burdette glanced down at her paper, muttering to the person besides her, I sprinted down the rest of the way and pushed myself up onto the stage. I skidded around the class that formed a semi circle facing her and stood besides Bex.

"What took you so long?" she hissed in my ear.

"Tell you later," I replied. I looked around the group until my eyes caught a pair of emerald ones. Zach shook his head and smirked at me. I cocked my head to the side and shook my head with a little eye roll tagged onto the end.

"Shakespeare," Mrs Burdette begun, "Is probably the most recognised poet in English history. His works have been studied all over throughout all the years. You're the last class to go, so the announcement will go up at the end of the day." She took her glasses off and started cleaning them. "And this year, students, we shall return to the Elizabethan age, performing one of Shakespeare's most recognised plays."

There was a dramatic pause before she continued, "Romeo and Juliet."

There was a collective groan from the guys. I smashed my lips together at the image of our guys in tights. I covered my mouth with my hand and leaned over to whisper my wacked imagination in her ear.

"Every student in your grade will have some sort of a role to play. Today, however, is your turn to audition and prove yourselves that you are elegant, graceful, and have the skills to be in the Elizabethan age."

Bex laughed at my comment, and I choked down another round of hysteria giggles. People around us started murmuring.

"_Quiet!_" Burdette snapped, her face flushing red. "Miss Morgan, since you seem so willing to have everybody you can go first."

That shut me up quicker than a croc's snap of the jaw.

"P-Pardon?" I stumbled.

Mrs Burdette stared at me from under her glasses as she sat down. "You will be auditioning first, Miss Morgan."

I stood there frozen. No. I didn't want to audition. Why the hell would I want to audition anyway?

"Bu–"

She made circular movements in the air. "Step forward with your script please. They were handed out at the beginning of the lesson."

Bex shoved her copy of the script into my hand and attentively I stepped forward. My feet made sound thing time. Sound that echoed off the stage and slowly faded, only to be overlapped by the next round of steps.

"Act two, scene two. You will say Juliet's passage."

I stood there and gulped before I breathed deeply and called upon my 'acting' days at Gallagher Academy. My voice was strong and clear when I spoke. "Ay me!/ O Romeo –"

A chuckle sounded to my left and my head whipped around and glared at the culprit.

"Somebody wants this part." Zach chuckled.

"Actually, Mr Goode, I think you and Miss Morgan can say your passages together."

Zach blinked and I stifled a laugh until I remembered that what she said meant I would have to play Juliet while he played Romeo.

_Grrrrreat_.

But Zach stayed cool and his face cleared of any surprised emotion. "I honestly don't think we should take the spotlight away from Miss Morgan. She would be too crushed for it."

I turned to him. "Oh, come now. I'm honestly surprised that you would turn down the opportunity to look coherent."

I heard a few laughs. Zach humped and stalked his way over to stand beside me.

_What the hell is wrong with him?_

Mrs Burdette smiled and sat down. "From the beginning."

And so we spoke the passage.

**JULIET**

_Ay me!_

**ROMEO**

_She speaks:  
O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art  
As glorious to this night, being o'er my head  
As is a winged messenger of heaven  
Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes  
Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him  
When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds  
And sails upon the bosom of the air._

I swayed a little and Zach walked around me. My back was stiff and as he passed behind me his hand touched my lower back.

"Relax," he whispered.

**JULIET**

_O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?  
Deny thy father and refuse thy name;  
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,  
And I'll no longer be a Capulet._

**ROMEO**

_[Aside] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?_

**JULIET**

_'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;  
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.  
What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,  
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part  
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!  
What's in a name? that which we call a rose  
By any other name would smell as sweet;  
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,  
Retain that dear perfection which he owes  
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,  
And for that name which is no part of thee  
Take all myself._

We stopped moving and faced each other. He raised his hand and played with my hair a little, speaking softly but loud enough.

**ROMEO**

_I take thee at thy word:  
Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized;  
Henceforth I never will be Romeo._

Zach whispered that last sentence and stared at me, his hand cupping my cheek. Our breaths mingled and for a moment I honestly believed that we weren't in a classroom. But then I did remember. And I stepped back. His hand dropped to his side and I curled the script in one hand. We faced Mrs Burdette.

_Talk about guys with PMS_.

"Well," she said a little breathless, "That was an amazing performance, Miss Morgan. I understand your reputation amongst the drama groups at Gallagher now. And Mr Goode... Well," she said, shrugging. "I never knew you had it in you. We may just see you in tights after all."

The class laughed and I turned around and walked over to Bex, instantly hiding myself behind everybody as Mrs Burdette called more pairs forth.

**BREAK**

Bex grabbed my arm as I walked out of the auditorium.

"What was that?" she asked, twirling me around to face her.

I frowned. "What are you talking about?" For a moment I was distracted trying to blow the hair out off my nose without using hands.

She jerked her thumb over her shoulder, towards the way we'd left. "Back there. With Zach. Romeo and Juliet." Her words were cut short and her British accent was thicker than usual.

"Uh... An audition?" I continued walking on, trying to blow the hair off my nose.

Her shoes clicked against the floor as she caught up to me. "That was quite the scene for just an audition."

I stopped by my locker, still frowning, and still trying. "It's Romeo and Juliet, Bex. It's supposed to be... emotional. Besides, I've done plays at my old school. You either give it all you've got, or you get the hell outta there and back stage." I shrugged. Frustrated, I pulled the hair back with my hands. Trickiness be damned.

She rolled her eyes at me. "Whatever. I'll drop. Just sayin', you know?"

I laughed, closing my locker and double checking my books. "Come on. I'm hungry."

Bex leaned forward, whispering in my ear over my shoulder. "For who."

I stopped in the middle of the walkway and jabbed her in the ribs with my elbow. Bex dodged and walked beside me.

"Not cool."

She laughed and pushed her way through the crowd of students, and I was left helplessly to follow behind her.

"Besides, it's not like I'm interested in him anyway," I said, "So, your theories are all messed up."

Bex paused in the middle of the hallway. "I never said that you _liked _him."

"And I don't. Besides, he's been a total ass lately, anyway. The majority of guys here seem to be."

Bex rolled her eyes. "That's just Zach, remember? Anyway there are some guys who aren't always so obnoxious." She started walking again.

"Like Grant?" I raised an eyebrow.

I could feel her trying to contain her blush. But it was untameable. And it would still be there when we walked into the lunch room and sat down with everybody.

Wonder what Grant thinks we're talking about...

**BREAK**

"CAMMIE!" Macey screamed from behind me. "You have _got _to see this!"

She grabbed my arm and pulled me away, my books falling onto the concrete floor. I tripped over an uneven brick, too.

"Macey! Let me go!"

Grant laughed and picked up my books, setting them down on the concrete wall. I smiled gratefully at him and turned around, running alongside her.

Macey didn't stop as we walked back into the school.

"Macey, school is _over_. We are _free_. You know, to go _home_?"

I could imagine Macey rolling her eyes as she marched towards the school notice board.

"Macey, what –"

She let go of my arm and her finger jabbed a piece of paper. I readjusted my clothing, glowering at her. Her fingernails had jabbed into my skin and left little moon crescent pink marks over my arms. I doubt that she meant to hurt me, but still, it _freaking hurt_.

"What is it?" I growled.

She groaned. "Read it, Morgan."

I peered forward and squinted my eyes as I read the piece of paper. I blinked, frozen. I re-read the first three lines about twenty odd times before I fully understood why Macey wanted me to read this.

The Romeo and Juliet cast were done.

And I was to play Juliet.

With Zach as Romeo.

And Marc as Paris.

Oh, Dear Lord, help me now.

"No," I groaned. "No. No. I don't, I don't want this. Not them. Not me. Not us! Not _this_."

A head popped up at my right, but I recognised the blond head of hair. Liz. She placed her hand on my shoulder, using it to balance herself and stretched up onto her tippytoes to stare at the piece of paper. She huffed when she didn't find her name on the first sheet and flipped it over.

"Yes!" She cheered. "Technicians." She smiled at us sheepishly. "I get stage fright."

I smiled but my stomach felt week. I am Juliet. Juliet Capulet. I am Juliet. My hands seemed to sweat and I clenched them into fists at my side. I shouldn't be overreacting like this. I knew this play. I had studied it before. It wasn't a play that nobody did not know. Besides, it wasn't like I had stage fright or anything unlike Liz. I had done plays before. Lots. Little roles, big roles, dancing roles, singing roles; I had done it.

So why was I so terrified.

Bex had joined us in the conversation, unhappy to find that she would be playing the 'old and annoying' nurse.

_We can switch_, I felt like saying. _You can be Juliet and I'll be the nurse._

It was a fair deal.

I hadn't noticed that three other people had joined us until one of them touched my shoulder. I jumped a mile in the air, gasping, and turned around.

Grant smiled at me apologetically.

"Sorry," he said, lifting my bag up to me, the other arm holding my books to his side. "But you girls were just taking forever." He glanced over his shoulder at the three very enthusiastic girls. "What's with them, anyway?"

I pointed my thumb over my shoulder. "The _Romeo and Juliet _cast lists are out. That's all."

I shuffled out of the way so Grant could scan the list. His finger stopped a third of the way before he threw his head back and laughed out loud.

"Mercutio," he said, laughing. "I'm playing Mercutio."

I couldn't help but laugh at that. Mercutio was an interesting character who I often enjoyed reading his speeches. He was funny, weird, physiological, and some people even considered him to be gay. It didn't help his case with the Baz Luhrmann take and his dress up costume.

"That'd be funny," I said in a small voice.

Grant frowned down at me. "Who are you?"

I whispered, "Juliet."

Grant blinked before he laughed and pulled me into a shoulder hug, placing our backs against the notice board. He whipped his arm out and spoke in a dramatic voice. "And, pray tell, who is your Romeo?

"I bet he is charming, funny, incredible handsome, as cunning as a fox and as witty as a snakes tongue."

"That last one made no sen-"

"Shhh." He puts his hand over my mouth.

I rolled my eyes and 'wrestled' (I really didn't want to hurt him) his hand off my mouth to no success.

"I wonder who will play your dear sweet Romeo. Is his nose the size of a camels? Does his hair stink of eggs? Is he ugly? Or maybe –"

I elbowed Grant in the stomach lightly and he coughed before he straightened and glared at me.

"It's Zach," I growled, "Okay? Zach is playing Romeo. Not so handsome, funny, cunning and charming now, is he?" I shoved Grant off me.

"I'll always be those things and many more," Zach said as he approached us.

I snorted. The others had stopped laughing now and had slowly closed in on the three of us. I expected Grant to throw a fit. I really did. I mean, come on! Surely I wasn't the only one suspecting it. I looked over to the girls, all of whom had concerned expressions on their faces and were watching Grant's every twitch.

Zach glanced around the group before his eyes rested on Grant, flickered to me, and quickly back to him. "What's going on?" he asked.

I cleared my throat. "The _Romeo and Juliet _cast list is out. That's all."

_That's all! That was _so _not all, Cameron! And you damn well know it! _

Zach smirked. "What? Did you get the role of the horrible, cranky, and old nurse?" he teased.

Bex punched him in the arm.

"OW! What was that for?"

"_I _got that role, idiot," she hissed.

Zach paled slightly, but he didn't apologise. He just rolled his eyes and shook his head; his hair fell past his eyes now.

_He really needs a haircut_.

"Move over, Morgans."

"I'm a Newman," Grant protested, as he shuffled us out of the way.

"Your name is first on the list," I said as his hand went down the page, "In case you can't read."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm looking for your name. Wanna see what's gotten you so pale."

"Good. That means I'll know how to play dead when my character kills herself at the end scene."

Zach froze and his finger zoomed up to the top of the page where it stayed there, frozen.

"No _fucking_ way!"

**Hehe. Looks like Cam's going to have some fun in the afterschool rehearsals.**

**So, what did you all think? Have a favourite quote? Like/dislike a certain character? Want to see more or less of something? And sorry about the swearing at the end. I thought it was rather appropriate for Zach. **

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter!  
And don't forget to review! I really love hearing what you guys think.**

**P.S This is my longest chapter on FF yet. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Wow. Chapter seven already. Sheesh. I did not think I'd make it this far with a fanfic so THANK YOU EVERYBODY for their encouragement and wonderful patience. And from now on, I promise not to put a timespan on when a chapter or sneak peek will be out. I'm terrible at up-holding them; as I'm sure ya'll figured out.**

**This is a smaller than usual chapter, but I hope you all really like it xD**

**Ellen.**

CHAPTER SEVEN

GRANTPOV

_You can do it, Newman. _You can do it!

Ah. Who the hell was I trying to kid?

I couldn't ask out Bex Baxter.

She's... Well, to put it bluntly, she's Bex Baxter. And not once has Bex Baxter ever said yes to a guy before to be her boyfriend. Because, let's face it, I didn't want Bex to be a one night stand. People weren't kidding when they said that I had been crushing on her for years.

Six years to be exact.

And each time I had the courage to even think of asking her out- I chickened out.

But now I couldn't.

Because Cammie had called upon an old 'favour' (I honestly couldn't remember this one- but I wasn't about to turn down yet another opportunity to get one step closer to asking Bex out) and said that I had to ask her out and I should have done so already because it was morally right.

I didn't understand and I'm not going to pretend that I do.

But I was going to ask out Bex Baxter. And I wanted it to be done right. Too often do I hear Cam and her friends talk about those damn romantic movies and books where the love interest did something totally unrealistic- and unintentionally raising the stakes for us normal guys who just wanted to have the girl by _their _girl.

Stupid Edward Cullen and damn spy boys from those unpronounceable books.

Damn them all.

But at the end of the day, what did it matter? I would only get one step closer to actually asking her. The furthest I've ever gone is actually saying 'hi' to her. The words had jammed in my throat, my palms had gotten sweaty, and that way she looked at me... it could have made me crumble to my knees. Of course, Bex did that to everybody, so I didn't feel like such a wuss when I chickened out and got saved by the bell.

"I'm going to do it," I told Zach as my body sunk into my couch. The TV was playing a James Bond action movie (my guess was that Cameron hadn't taken the DVD out when she watched it last night) and he shoved a handful of BBQ chips in his mouth. I could hear the crunching noise despite the fact that his mouth was closed.

I reached over and grabbed my own handful, shoving it into my mouth as well.

"What are you doing?" he said, his eyes never straying from the TV as one of the Bond Girls did a dramatic, and extremely hot, entrance.

"Asking Bex out." I swallowed my last chip.

Zach nodded his head. "Uh-huh."

The doubt was clear even to me.

"No, seriously," I said. "I'm going to ask out Bex. For real this time."

"Do you remember what you said last time you told me you were going to ask her out?"

I scolded. "Don–"

He smiled a smile that I shouldn't event think was a smile. It was vicious and more of a not-quite-there-smirk.

"Exactly," he said. "What makes you think it's really going to happen this time?"

I rolled my eyes. "Because, this time, it is different." I reached over and put my hand in the bag to grab some more chips to find that there weren't any. I frowned and wiggled my hand in the bag, my fingers poking out, making weird shapes on the outside.

Zach sighed, and crumbled the bag over my hand as I jerked my hand out of the bag.

"Douche," I muttered.

He smirked and retorted with, "wuss."

I snatched at the bag and crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into the bin on the far side of the room. It missed.

Zach frowned at me. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Nah. I'm just playing with ya."

He had a puzzled frown on his face. "You just missed your goal."

"That's too bad. Hey, can we rewind? I think we missed the part where the chick walks out of the water."

Zach rolled his eyes, but rewound it anyway. "Grant. Are you really going to do it?"

"Do what?"

He lunged to hit me over the head with the pillow he tucked at his side. I slipped off the couch and kicked at his chin. He threw the pillow at me and I caught it at my chest.

"Ask Baxter out," he growled. "You're really going to go there? Again?"

I groaned and leaned back, letting my head hit the floor to stare up at the ceiling. "I've got nothing to lose. Why not?"

"And Cam? How does she feel about you wanting to date her best friend?"

I propped myself up on my elbows. "She knows. She's always known. And whatda you care for her feelings, anyway?" I lied back down and waited for Zach's cocky answer of some sort. I waited. But it never came.

I sat up straight. "You swore," I growled.

Zach rolled his eyes and stretched, lying down on the couch. "I know. And I'm keepin' it."

I stared at him for a while. How could I be sure? How could I be absolutely sure that him and Cam didn't fall. They were playing _Romeo and Juliet_; how could I be sure that his acting doesn't affect her in the way that she falls for him? How could I be sure that he wasn't affecting her in the way that she did something totally stupid? She had already done the worse at Gallagher.

Can you get worse once you've hit rock bottom? Can you only go up? Or can you dig deeper past that supposed-to-be-concrete foundation?

How long _can _you really go?

"Dude, you 'right?"

I glowered at him. "Keep it, Goode. Or else I'll be hittin' you harder than I hit Gregory last year."

Zach rolled his eyes but I knew he remembered how I accidentally-on-purpose broke that kids nose and maybe a few other features of his face.

"Just watch the movie, Newman."

**BREAK**

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Zach asked for the tenth time that morning.

I glowered at him as we walked across the parking lot. "If you keep asking me that I'll back out."

"Maybe that's for the best." He frowned and hurried on to clarify. "Not to say asking her would be bad. But last time... Yeah, I'm sure you remember last time."

Last time I had asked her out it hadn't been done so smoothly. We were in the cafeteria and I had stood up on one of the tables and asked her out in front of the entire school. Everything had been going great until I slid forward and knocked her yogurt and plate of food onto her favourite pair of jeans and new shirt.

_Yeah, I remembered what happened last time_, I thought, wincing.

I shook my head. "No. This time I'm going to do it, and it'll be done right. I've always asked her out in front of a crowd where something will go wrong. This time it's going to be in private where nobody can see her reject me."

"Where are Baxter and Cameron anyway?"

Bex and Cam had ridden to school together today so I could go over my plan with Zachary. I had asked her to lead Bex over to our usual spot on the concrete wall so I could ask to talk to her in private and then use my man-charm to ask her out.

_Bzzzz Bzzzzz_

I flipped open my phone. Cam had texted me.

**By the bleachers. Too crowded**_**.**_

I loved my cousin. I punched Zach in the arm, who was staring around, and got him to follow me as I made my way to the bleachers. I spotted the two girls lying stomach down on the grass laughing as they stared over a camera.

"It was so bad—" Cameron was saying before she looked up and stopped. "Hey guys. What's up?"

I pushed my hands into the pockets of my jeans and stared at Bex. Her hair was down and messy today—perfect.

"Can I, ah, talk to you, Bex— for a moment—please?"

Bex nodded her head and glanced at Cam. She shrugged and turned the camera back around to her, smiling at some photos on the sleek pink camera.

"Cool," I said.

_Cool? Ah, hell! _

I walked off about a hundred metres or so with Bex following behind me. I turned around to face her, ready to say the words, but they were jammed in my throat. I couldn't say them. My palms were sweaty and my heart beat went into overdrive. I was used to being nervous—I was nervous every time I stepped on to that field and felt the pressure of the school relying on me to win. I felt it.

But it was never like this.

She looked gorgeous today.

But, then again, she looked gorgeous every day.

"Bex, hi," I said.

Bex shifted the weight of her feet. "Hey Grant."

_How could she be so damn calm and cool and amazing and gorgeous? _

I took a deep breath and blurted the words out. "I like your hair."

_Damnit! Wrong words!_

Bex frowned but a small blush crept up her throat and on to her cheeks. "Thanks Grant. I like your jeans."

"Cam picked them out for me."

_SAY IT NEWMAN! SAY IT!_

"And I like your personality. And I like you. Which, by now, you should already know." She nodded her head but I continued. "And I know I suck at asking you out. I've failed again and again. But I really like you."

_Now the words are coming_.

"And I've been meaning to do this for a while. I've just never really known the right way how to. So, I'm doing it now. And I'm being serious. I really, _really_ like you. I've liked you for ages—and I still do."

I took a deep breath and didn't look at her as I spoke. "So, will you be my girlfriend?"

**Does anybody else feel like going 'awwwww' at his little speech? I know it's not very Grant like, but like I told a reviewerer, I don't want Grant to be seen as just a guy with Greek God looks. He can be sweet and caring—and sometimes overlyprotective and clumsy—and have his Edward Cullen moments, too. Without wanting to suck somebody's blood, that is.**

**So, what do you think Bex said? xD Like the cliffy? I'm sorry. But I just HAD to. Couldn't pass up the opportunity!**

**R&R**


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

"Romeo and Juliet, ladies and gentlemen, is a wonderful play that has stayed with us through the ages. As you all know, you have been chosen to portray these characters." Mrs Burdette paced across the stage back and forth as she had all the speaking characters stand in front of her.

I fidgeted a little but stood tall and strong. Surprisingly, everybody turned up on time, despite the fact that it was all afterschool practises.

"Every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday you will have afterschool practises. For those of you who have other after school activities you will have to study harder." She stopped and stared at the boys who played contact sports. "And for those of you who get tackled too hard you better hope that you don't get brain damage."

"Or you don't make your case worse for some people," I whispered a little too loudly.

The group laughed and Mrs gave me a disapproving look before she walked off the stage. I bit my bottom lip to contain my smirk. Zach and I had been doing that a lot lately. Saying little things here and there that only we knew were directed at each other.

I didn't mind so much to be honest. Being angry at Zach was easier than being nice. You could find anything to be angry at him about.

His cocky, arrogant attitude... his smirk... the way his hair is never a hair out of place... the fact that he's my neighbour...

UGH!

"Now, get with your respected partners and we shall practise the art of dance!" She clapped her hands in joy.

I felt like clapping that smirk off Zach's face as he looked over in my direction.

I walked onto the stage and we stood in two lines, facing our partners. We followed her instructions in silence, placing our palms flat in the air, a few centimetres apart.

As we spun, Zach ducked his head close and whispered, "Why so mean, Gallagher Girl?"

I ground my teeth together. _Curse him and his little pet name for me_.

He did not get to be a total asshole to me for the past few weeks and then is allowed to act like I'm the one who started it all! No. Way.

"Don't, okay? I'm not the one who started this."

Zach rolled his eyes. "Sure"—he dragged out the 'u'—"you didn't. It's not like you ever make me want to tear my hair out of my head."

I gasped in mock horror. "Oh, we're that angry that we want to damage the hair? Not the hair!"

He took deep breaths. "Trust me, if it weren't for the fact that you are Grant's cousin and we're doing this stupid play together, I wouldn't even have bothered with you in the first place."

Ouch. That stung.

"Don't pretend like this is a favour you're doing for me. Don't pretend to be nice or actually have any feelings because I'm _Grant's cousin_. Heaven forbid the day when you realise that I'm actually a human being with a name that does not include the words 'Grant's cousin'."

We stopped dancing.

"Hmmm," Mrs hummed, walking up and down the lines. "That was good. But let's try it in singular pairs. Cameron and Zachary, you're up." She clicked her fingers.

"Heaven forbid the day you actually learn some manners," I whispered heatedly as I walked to the centre.

"You just don't stop, do you?" He shook his head in amazement.

"If you just tell me what's gotten you so angry..." I suggested.

Zach's expression darkened. "It's nothing, alright? I'm keeping my promise."

Oh. "Your promise wasn't to be an ass, Zachary. It was for us to not date."

He rolled his eyes. "I know the terms."

"Then what's with you being an ass?"

The music drowned to a stop as the last note hummed in the background.

"Foreheads together, act like you're in love!" Our teacher called.

Zach pressed his forehead against mine, and his hair fell. He looked up from his eye lashes and whispered, "It's just easier this way, Cam."

"And... Cut!" Mrs Burdette clapped her hands and Zach pushed me away gently. "Excellent! That last part..." She sighed. "Wonderful! Okay, next is..."

I grabbed my bags and waited at the front of the school for Bex. She had been avoiding me all day and there was no way she was going to avoid me now. Besides, she needed to take her bag home. She had a three week overdue assignment in here.

I leaned against the brick wall and waited, tapping my foot as I got impatient.

But the next person to walk out the door and head towards me wasn't Bex.

Or Grantie.

Or Zach.

It was... Marc.

Talking to Marc hadn't been very high on my to-do list this week. In fact, avoiding Marc, was extremely high on the yearly to do this, just falling underneath 'do not fail high school.' I shifted my weight and glanced towards the car park, pretending I didn't see him.

Mean, I know. But it was for his own good. And Grant's.

"Hey Cam," he said, coming to a stop.

I smiled and brushed away the hair from my face. "Hey Marc. What's up?"

He glanced around the parking lot.

"Grant isn't here right now," I said. He could be making out with Rebecca Baxter, but with Bex avoiding me all day, I wasn't so sure anymore.

Relief coloured his face. "Phew. Anyway, I was kind of wondering if you wanted to go out with me sometime...?"

Dear Lord, where is Grant when you need him?

"Umm..."

Marc blushed, wincing. "That came out wrong."

"Sorry?"

"I didn't mean as a date," he said and squinted. "Well, not now, I mean. What I meant to say was..."

Marc blathered on and his voice faded out as Zach and I linked eyes. His eyebrow was raised and for some bizarre reason I thought he was challenging me.

"Yes," I blurted out.

My heart pounded. What. Did. I. Just. _Do_?

"W-What?"

"I said yes."

"Okay." Marc nodded his head slowly before regaining his composure. "So, your house or my house?"

"Grant will be there," I said, shrugging. CrapcrapcrapCRAP!

"It won't matter, will it? I mean, we're only going over the script."

"Yeah," I said, happy with relief. "Grant will be fine with it. He could even pitch in on the voices."

_Heart attack over!_

"So, I'll see you around seven on Friday?"

"Friday at seven."

Marc smiled, little dimples showed, and he walked away. I closed my eyes for a brief moment and sighed in relief. I hadn't agreed to an actual date. It was all fine. Everything was well.

"You get a hot date?"

I could feel the glare behind my close eyelids. "No," I said, peeling them open. "It's not a date."

Zach raised his eyebrows. "Huh? The kid is practically peeing happiness." He eyed his back as Marc got in the car.

"Jealousy is a sin, you know."

His eyes were sharp. "I'm not jealous."

"Never said you were."

"You were implying it which is pretty much the same thing."

I shrugged. "Get over yourself, Goode. You made it very clear that you wanted nothing friendly to do with me. So what are you here for?"

"Rehearsals."

"Well, rehearsals have finished now so there's no need for you to linger around me. I know what I can do to men has _obviously_ affected you, but your moods are starting to give me whip lash."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, and they say _I'm _the cocky, ego-headed one at the school."

I rolled my eyes and caught a sight of Bex.

"Eat my dust, Goode," I said, pushing off the wall and grabbing onto Bex's arm and lead her away.

"Ouch, Morgan," she hissed.

I stopped walking and push her in front of me.

"Well," I said.

She rolled her eyes.

_She rolled her eyes!_

"I said no."

"No?"

"No."

"So you said yes?"

"No."

"You said no?"

"Yes."

"But I thought you said—"

Bex glared at me and I shut up.

For a second.

"But _why?_ Why did you say no?" This is getting ridiculous.

"What?" she said innocently. "I need to keep him on his toes."

I repeat earlier thought statement.

"On his toes?"

She waved a hand at me and continued walking to her car. "What'd you expect me to do? Say yes?"

"Yes, actually I did." I stepped in front of her, blocking her way. "Bex, sooner or later he's toes are going to bruise and he'll stop chasing you. Please. Stop leading him on!"

"I'm doing no such thing!"

"Bex," I said softly. "Grant's my cousin and you're my best friend. Don't act like that between the two of you I wouldn't have the majority of the story."

Bex stepped around me and got into her car. She clenched the steering wheel and hit her head against it. I waited patiently. She needed a moment.

Bex wound the window down.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "But I'm scared, Cam. I'm scared of what saying yes means. He's liked me for so long and we have the same circle of friends. What if I stuff it up? What if we broke up and we broke the group up as well?"

I pulled Bex out of the car and hugged her.

"Let's just take it one day at a time, 'k? One day at a time."

**Mehh. This was very much a bludge chapter so I don't get murdered :D And don't murder me yet. I know a lot of you were hoping that Bex would say yes, and I know I am a horrible person cause she said no, but stay with me, please! They will be making progress, just you wait and see.**

**And is anybody else getting dizzy with Zach's mood swings? I mean, honestly, Zach, what the hell are you doing?**

**And you'll probably be asking that question in huge capitals for the next chapter, I'm guessing ;D**

**Also, for those who didn't get the sneak peek That's What You Get was nominated for a Gallagher Girl Award. It was nominated for Most Fantastic AU (Alternate Universe). And voting is now up! **

**.net/forum/[]THE_2ND_OFFICIAL_GALLAGHER_GIRL_AWARDS_WINTER_2010/80300/[]**

**Just take out the [] in the address and it'll take you to the forum. So go support your favourite stories and vote for them! I know I'm crossing fingers for a lot of stories!**

**Oh. And I've put that new story on hold. I figured that considering I rarely update this one, it would be pointless to start a new one :S**

**But I'm on my holidays now, so hopefully, you should expect to see me a lot more! :D**

**Ellen.**


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

"Grant," I growled, "it is so not a _date_."

He crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes.

"Seriously," I continued. "We're going over the Romeo and Juliet script. He's Paris and I'm Juliet; there's a lot of lines to memorize and it's best to get a head start." He didn't waver. "You could even come and join on the script reading. That's how 'this-isn't-a-date' I am."

Grant chewed on his lip but said nothing else.

"Fine!" I slammed the script down on the counter. "It doesn't matter anyway; he'll be here in any minute now anyway and there's nothing you can do to stop it." The door bell rang and I slipped off the kitchen stool. I threw over my shoulder, "and be nice. He's _your_ friend."

"And he's your—"

I opened the door and smiled.

"Hi, Marc."

Marc smiled and I opened the door wider to let him through. He walked over to the kitchen and I could hear the sounds of animate—and more importantly _nice_—chatter going on between the boys. I closed the door, leaning my back against it and breathed in deeply.

Friday had come around quicker than I had thought it would.

I walked into the kitchen. "You gonna join us, Grant?"

Grant between Marc and I until he sighed and shook his head. "Nah. I think I'm gonna head over to Jonas's for the rest of the day." He stood from the stool and walked passed me, scruffing up my hair as he went, jacket and keys in hand. He paused at the door. "No funny business, Hammond."

"Really?" I asked, surprised. For a moment, I honestly expected Grant to stick around and supervise us like we were two year olds.

Grant poked his head back in. "What?"

"Nothing," I called back. "I said 'have fun'."

Grant eyed me suspiciously and I threw a mouthful of chips into my mouth, smiling around them awkwardly. The chips dug into my cheeks. It was painful and I doubted that it looked very attractive.

"Uh huh," he said slowly. I waved at him and he shook his head, closing the door.

Marc's shoulder dropped about ten thousand metres towards the ground. I swallowed the last of my chips and smiled.

Marc frowned at me. "What?"

"Seriously? You're intimidated by Grant that much?" I knew the affect Grant had on the guys—major affect—but I didn't think it'd be enough to make the kid looked like he was dying. I played Juliet here; clearly I'm supposed to be the pale one out of everybody.

"Well, come on," I said, slipping off the stool and walking into the lounge room. My script was waiting for me exactly where I left it on the coffee table. "Lets get these lines memorised."

I jumped over the back of the couch and settled in, placing the one hundred odd paged script on my lap. I turned to look at Marc and he stood there, shuffling from one foot to another, scratching the back of his head.

Oh oh. My devil was singing to me.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He blinked and looked around the room. "Nothing, nothing." He walked around the couch and sat on the other end. His script was rolled into a pin and he hit it against his knee. "Um... Cammie..."

"Yes, Marc."

"Is today going to be a study date or a _study_ date."

I blinked. Play it dumb, play it dumb. "You just said the same thing twice."

Marc laughed, relaxing and he sunk further into the couch. He rested his arm on the back of the couch and rested one foot on his other knee. He looked me directly in the eye and said, "Cam—"

"Knock knock!" shouted a voice from outside.

The first thing I took note of was that the voice was male. The second thing was the pained and agonizing look on Marc's face. The third... Well, there was no third.

Frowning, I stood and walked over to the door. I tried to look through the peep hole but all I said was the back of a head. The person had dark hair.

I opened the door.

No.

Freakin'.

Way.

"What are you doing here?" I exclaimed.

Zach smirked at me from the other side of the door frame. He helped up his script up, waving it in front of my face.

"Rehearsals," he said.

Zach tried to take a step inside, but I closed the gap and used my body to block the rest of the doorway. He frowned at me and sighed.

"What are you doing here?" I asked again.

"Rehearsals," he said again.

"No. There's no rehearsing today. It's seven o'clock at night on a Friday. School finished four hours ago. Go home." I closed the door and he shoved his foot in the way. He smacked his palm against the door and pushed it open, stepped aside me and walked into the house.

I stood there gob smacked.

"Get out, Zachary!" I yelled.

He turned and raised an eyebrow at me. "Zachary? I see we moved pass the last name basis. Good to know."

I clenched my hands and fought the urge to stomp my foot like a little girl.

"Zach, what are you doing here?"

He groaned and dug a piece of paper out from his pocket and handed it to me. On the note were the words 'Rehearsals Cammie's house Friday seven'. It was in his handwriting.

"What is this meant to prove?"

"I'm here for rehearsals." He walked into the kitchen and eyed the packet of chips I'd left open from when I was arguing with Grant. "Twisties." He popped a few in his mouth and sat on the same stool I sat on before.

I crossed my arms over my chest.

"This"—I waved the piece of paper in the air—"doesn't mean you are invited."

"You said it wasn't a date," he pointed out. "So, I figure the study session was open invite."

"Well, it's not. So get out." I pointed to the door. "The way you came in is the preferred choice of entrance and exiting."

Zach rolled his eyes. "Chill, Cameron."

"Don't call me Cameron."

"I thought we were on full first name basis." He genuinely seemed confused.

"No. We're not. Now leave."

Zach nodded his head. "I get it now. You want me to prove that we're on full first name friendship basis. Got it."

I think my eyes popped out of my head right then. "Argh!" I growled and stormed back into the lounge room.

Marc frowned at me. "Who was it?"

"It's meeeee," Zach sung, following me.

I crossed my arms over my chest and sulked. More like fumed, really. I was pissed. Zach couldn't just invite himself here for a study session whenever he felt like it. It was closed invite if more than one person had been invited. And only one person had been invited.

I wanted to pull Zach's hair and cut his Abercrombie jeans.

"Hey man," Zach said, nodding at Marc.

"Uh... Hey," Marc said, clearly confused. He looked to me with a quizzical look.

I shrugged my shoulders.

Zach caught on to the voiceless communication.

"Sorry man. We you hoping on _studying_? Too bad. You probably should have mentioned it was closed invite when you were bragging to all your mates about your so-called study date with Cam."

"What?" I asked.

Marc groaned.

Zach's eyes narrowed. "You didn't know?"

"This isn't a so-called study date," I said. "We're going over our Romeo and Juliet scenes. What's there to brag about?"

March shook his head and looked at me. "That wasn't me, alright? My mates thought it was study not study-study. Honest, Cam. They twisted the words." He glowered at Zach. "Not me."

Zach shrugged. "Whatever man. Calm down. I don't care what your mates say. Grant does though."

"I know. And he knows that too. So there's no need for the 'Protect Cam' brigade to fire at me, alright?"

"Okay," I said, cutting in. "That's enough." I looked at Marc. "They're protecting me alright? Grant's like that. He'll get everybody to keep a lookout for me. But he trusts you. I mean, we're home alone, right?"

Marc eyed Zach.

"Pretend he's not there," I said.

"Hey!" Zach.

"He trusts you, alright? And for now—for the next hour or so that's the most anybody's gotten. So chill." I turned to Zach. My brain was clicking in gears. "Zach, kitchen. We need drinks and snacks and I've only got two arms."

"I'll help," Marc pitched in.

"No," I said quickly. "Zach's up; he can do it."

"Yes ma'am," Zach said, walking a soldier for three steps before giving up. Clearly it wasn't as easy or hard as it looks.

I pulled chips out and grabbed one of the biggest bowls we had. I grabbed a packet of popcorn and placed them in the microwave. Pressing on, I knew the sound would cover our hushed voices.

"So, what do you want to know this time?" he sighed, sitting on the counter next to me while I stood.

"Why are you really here?" I asked softly. I didn't want to fight. I just wanted the truth.

"Honestly?" he repeated, staring into my eyes.

"Yes. Honestly. What else would I mean? Like to me?"

He sighed. "Grant may have mentioned what was happened this Friday."

I groaned.

Zach held his hands up. "No. It's not like that. He said he wasn't going to hang around and I wasn't sure if that was right."

I frowned. He didn't think having freedom was right? This guy's twisted.

"Why wouldn't it be right?"

Zach leaned closer and practically whispered in my ear. "I know things, okay? I've known Marc a lot more and longer than anybody else in this town has. I hear things. And not from outspoken sources or the gossip mill. I hear the real stuff." Zach slid off the counter top. "I know I said that being a dick was easier than being nice and sometimes, like now, it's easy to just be nice for a change. I'm looking out for you. Grant knows I'm here. He honestly trusts me with you which means you're more important to him then you realise, Cam.

"I'm just trying to be a friend."

I swallowed. That was a lot more than I ever expected to hear. No. That was a lot deeper than what I ever expected to hear.

"Can we be friends?" I whispered. The little space between us made this moment more intimate. More risky. I had to take a shot. "Not arguing... it'd be nice."

Zach smiled. "Friends it is, Cameron."

I groaned and the microwave beeped. "My name's Cam or Cammie. Not Cameron."

Zach just laughed and pulled on the end of my ponytail.

"Ouch! Watch it," I said, smacking him on the shoulder. Zach piled the drink in his arm and I grabbed our bowl of chips and popcorn and we carried them into the lounge room.

Marc looked up from his script and eyed my bowl of pop corn.

I rolled my eyes.

Boys.

I sat down on the couch, next to Marc. He looked at me with a concerned face and I smiled happily to reassure him. When Zach turned his back I nodded my head and mouthed "Everything's cool". Marc just smiled and nodded his head.

"Hey, man, pass me a coke will ya?" Marc said.

I looked down at my script the words 'Romeo and Juliet' took up half the page on their own. Looking at the script and imaging this play was real... I had it going fairly good for me here.

I wasn't about to stuff it up.

**Hi everybody *waves***

**So... REALLY long time no see, huh? Sorry about that. I understand that I was on holidays, but Fanfiction hasn't really been the thing on my mind lately. And sorry for not sending out teasers. I figured you guys would rather want the chapter over teasers ;) Haha.**

**But... I know I said this last chapter but I do have holidays again. Four. Beautiful. Weeks. And I'm currently sick. So, who knows? Maybe I'll write mega loads and it'll just be the uploading that I have to do. I have finished my mid-year exams last week and my own MS is through its last rounds of self editing so hopefully that'll clear my schedule for a while to come.**

**And I'm so sorry if this doesn't live up to everybody's expectations. But it's short, sweet and filled with goodness so I'm hoping you guys aren't firing up your pitches just yet. **

**But here's your chance to make what you want to happen happen.**

**Tell me in your review: what you would like to see happen in That's What You Get. I want to know any little detail. Whether it's a pairing, a drama, you have an idea for Cammie's misbehaviour, a kiss or a really super close kiss ;) Anything you want, tell me and I might just put it into the story (with your permission of course. It might not happen right away, but when it does I'll definitely tell you). **

**And the usual comments: did you love this chappie, hate it, so so? Tell me. I really love hearing your opinions.**

**Sorry about the lateness.**

**Ellen. **


	10. Chapter 10

**Well, I'm officially the worst fanfictioner ever. I'm pretty sure I sent out a teaser for this chapter a few weeks ago and I'm only getting to it now?**

**Eek!**

**Well, I didn't write mega loads of FF. And I was sick the past week and only remembered because I got some chapter updates from other GG FF's :S Sorry! Haha.**

**Also, a few of you actually hit spot on for ideas I already had for TWYG! I was so close to giving out spoilers to those people, but I restrained myself.**

**Without further ado! **

**Here is the totally awesome and (you'll love the ending) amazing chapter ten!**

CHAPTER TEN

When Monday morning had come, the weekend felt like it was years away. Especially considering I had been in the presence of Zach for a couple of hours without it being snarky or rude in some way.

It truly was a miracle.

What was also a miracle was the fact that Marc had called me twice over the weekend, both of which I shamefully avoided by getting Grant to pretend I was home. Not that Grant was actually bothered by it. In fact, he seemed a little too cheerful after Friday night. Right now, as we sat in the car waiting for the lights to change, Grant was tapping to a nonexistent song beat. It had been at least an entire minute since I switched off the radio.

"Okay," I finally caved, hitting his arm to gain his attention. "Why do you have rainbows shoved up your backside?"

Grant didn't even blink at my language or references. He just smiled at me and let the car slid forward smoothly—too smoothly compared to his rough driving. By now I was used to clutching to the seat without a seat belt because it would rub against my bare skin and it looked like I had a rash.

I hit his arm harder this time and his tapping broke.

Only for him to start whistling.

I groaned, slapping my hands against the dashboard.

He frowned at me. "Hey! Don't take your PMS issues out on the British Bombshell, alright?"

I scoffed and he pulled into the car park, turning it off, jumped out and locked it all in about a minute. I sat in the car after that, staring at his retreating back.

Something was definitely up.

And as the student body glanced at him and back at the car in confusion, I figured I wasn't the only one who was tripping out.

Jonas and Zach walked over to us. Jonas walked to the back of the car, frowning at it.

"Is there something wrong with the car?"

Jonas's frown deepened. "He parked the car. Within the lines."

Zach eyes widened and he rushed over to his side. His lips parted and I think he actually made a little gasp sound. "No freakin' way." I jumped out and they looked at me at the same time like they were programmed robots.

"What happened to Grant?" they demanded.

Honestly, I was tempted to say that he either a) got laid or b) was abducted on Friday night and returned with a too happy Grant.

Option b was much more realistic—which was saying something.

I shrugged helplessly. "I don't know." Then, I took off like a rocket, shoving people aside. It didn't take me long to find the person who stuck out like the only person wearing red on labour day. He was leaning up against the locker, clearing talking to somebody. I stood back, wondering if he and Bex were talking because all I could hear was giggling. Zach and Jonas caught up to me and after a look at their faces, it was easy to tell that they were just as confused.

I cleared my throat and walked up to Grant... and some girl who clearly _was not Bex_.

Nope.

Not one bit.

I was positive.

And positively quivering with anger.

"Hi." I smiled pointedly at Grant. "How are you this fine morning? At first I thought you had some kind of emergency because you _ran_ out of that car and even parked it straight. But"—I looked at the girl who was blushing bright red and biting on her lip—"I realise now that I am a big bloody idiot because you got to school twenty minutes early so you could talk to a girl." Grant was glowering at me but I just didn't seem to be able to stop. I did refrain from mentioning Bex which I think was a total win on my self control. I looked at the girl. "Hi, I'm Cammie. You know that and I don't know you. Just make sure he doesn't faint and if he hands in any assignments that you know of can you get me? He'll just need a good wack on the head by somebody who knows him."

I stormed off.

I had to say, I was quite impressed with myself. Until I walked outside to see a fuming—and I think tearful—Rebecca Baxter. She was throwing her arms in the air and stomping while Macey and Liz tried to calm her down.

I don't know who I felt more sorry for. My cousin who I just totally humiliated or my friend who was leading my cousin on because she was scared of getting hurt, though to him it only looked like he was a hobby of hers.

Suddenly, I was glad Zach and I had cleared up our misunderstanding.

I jogged over to them and as Bex saw me she ran over at me and I pulled her into a hug. Her chest was retching forward and I knew my shirt was going to be stained. I guess it was a lucky thing that I wore a dark coloured shirt today then, right?

Macey and Liz came over and we all hugged Bex, taking it in turns to be a tissue with two arms, two legs and a heartbeat.

It was recess and our group was literally split into two. The guys sat on one side of the table and the girls sat on the other. And me? I was wedged between Grant and Bex, hoping my position would let them know that I was there for the both of them. Everyone at the table was either 'eating' (code for playing with their food), glaring or in a really awkward position and didn't know how to react so they more or less stared at the table (and for the record, I think I'm the only one allowed to be in option three).

I bit into a chip, only to cringe.

It was cold.

I hated cold food just as much as I was beginning to hate this day. I wondered if it were possibly to fake a sickness and go home. I could say I had cramps; that time of the month. I look up, my mouth opened wide, ready to put on my sick face when I meet Zach's eyes. He's staring me down, his mouth twisted, like he knows what I'm about to do. I pouted and he shook his head at me.

I pouted some more.

Then I heard a sound I have never once in my life been grateful for: the bell.

I practically leaped from my seat and ran out of the cafeteria.

I slammed my bedroom door, threw my bag into the corner and collapsed on my bed. The car with Grant hadn't gone so well. In fact, I recall a lot of confusion, some swearing and even more anger. I just didn't get it. What happened with Bex?

The door flung open.

"Go away, Grant!" I growled, sitting up.

Grant crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not going without an explanation."

"Explanation for what?"

"You humiliated me in front of my girlfriend." He was speaking too calmly. Way too calmly for this. It made me angrier.

"What happened with Bex?" I exploded, standing up. "Why are you all of a sudden not interested in Bex? She stuffed up, alright? She told me she was scared of what could happen if you dated. You're best friends. If something went wrong then all hell would break loose between the group."

"But nothing would have gone wrong!" Grant exploded, too. "We were—are, if I still liked her—perfect for each other. The only times things went bad was when she repeatedly rejected me. Again and again."

"But—"

"I'm a guy, Cammie," he stressed. "Testosterone isn't meant for pining."

I collapsed back on the bed. "Give her one more chance, Grant. Please."

"I can't, Cams. I'm sorry. I'm with Anna now, alright?" He walked away, leaving the door wide open.

Dinner was awkward. And desert. And every time we were ten feet within each other it was awkward. I hoped for it not to be. He was my cousin, my blood. But Bex was my best friend. How are you supposed to compete with that? By the end of the night, I was tossing and turning in my bed. Even being under the same roof as Grant seemed to be awkward.

A sharp ringing sound caught my attention, completely out of the blue. I sat up. Was there an intruder? Somebody trying to break open a window or door lock? I crept over to my door, my feet light as feathers on the carpet and I switched the lock.

The ringing noise sounded again and this time it was followed by a familiar, "Damn."

Zach was playing basketball. Again. I looked at my clock, the red numbers so bright my eyes were momentarily stunned.

10:49

Déjà vu, much?

Except, it wasn't a dream. The exact same thing had happened once before. I walked out onto my balcony. Zach, dribbling a ball up and down the court covered in sweat and his shorts riding on his hips, aimed and missed. I had to admit, he, in this very moment, looked like a very sexy God.

I swallowed back my laughter which made the most embarrassing noise ever. Somewhere between a snort of mockery and a pig snort of laughter. I ducked when he spun around, hiding behind the wooden pillars of my balcony. One last shot and a door slid open and closed. I peeked over. Zach had gone back inside.

His bedroom light flooded onto the balcony a minute later. But he never came out.

I peered over the edge, curious and feeling oh-so like a pervert. Oh, well. I'll just pull the 'idiot playing basketball at midnight' card. Again.

Man, I was so stupid sometimes.

Even more stupid than being stupid sometimes was the stupid thing I was about to do.

I walked back, taking wide steps until I reached the far end of my balcony. Then, I took off for a sprint. I placed my hands on the railing and used that to propel myself across the two/three metre gap between our balconies. My feet landed in the middle of Zach's balcony and I rolled, catching myself with my hands.

"What the—"

Zach came out on the balcony just as I was adjusting my pj's into a more appropriate place. They had practically turned inside out when I rolled.

He sighed, banging his head against the window.

"What are you doing?"

"Hi," I said softly.

Zach looked at me again, taking me in more carefully. I hadn't realised how small and soft my voice was. I almost felt like a child.

"You alright?"

I glanced back to my balcony, remembering the feeling of Grant's presence.

"Not really," I admitted.

"You planning on going back?" He grabbed a towel and placed it around his neck. I realised he was probably going to have a shower. Washing all that hot and sweaty action off him.

"Can I stay here for the night?" I whispered. Zach looked surprised and nervous so I rushed on. "I'll sleep on the floor. You won't even know I'm here and I'll be gone in the morning. Nobody will get the chance to know."

"Why?"

"Grant. I just—it's hard. He's my cousin, she's my best friend and I don't know where I should stand."

"Perhaps out of the picture?"

I looked down, embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I don't even know why I—" I headed back and Zach leaped out, grabbing me by the arm.

"No. That wasn't a 'leave' I meant with Bex and Grant. Just stay out of it. You can stay."

"Oh."

Zach led me inside, closing and locking the balcony. He drew the curtains closed. In my sleepy state, I barely glanced at Zach's room. Only enough to notice he was a real fan of basketball, cleanness and obviously didn't have Grant over enough. I made a comment on all three.

"You can sleep on the bed," he said.

"I'm not kicking you out of your own bed. I'll sleep on the floor."

Zach scoffed. "I'm not letting you sleep on the floor."

"And I won't let _you_ sleep on the floor, either."

He paused. "So, what now?"

We both glanced at the bed. It was a queen—big enough for the both of us to not have to touch. I shrugged.

"I can put a border of pillows in-between us..."

I laughed. "It's alright. I trust you," I said, only then realising that I did in fact trust him. At least enough to know that he wouldn't try anything. Besides, I'm sure he remembered our first sparring match in PE.

Zach nodded. "Well, I'm gonna shower." He gathered an armful of clothes. "You sleep." He flicked off the light and walked into his adjoining bathroom. The room was cool when dark. And utterly unfamiliar, which was something I just realised.

I really hoped Zach didn't need to sleep, cause I doubt I'd get any.

I was a strange person. If I didn't know the place, I was very unlikely to sleep. It took me five nights to get comfortable at Grant's place. And even then I slept with the doors and windows locked for another week.

I climbed into Zach's bed. The mattress was soft, but firm. And the pillows were just right, too.

Damn.

Why did he have to have such a nice bed?

I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply.

Around ten minutes later, Zach came out of the bathroom and climbed into bed. I kept my eyes closed and breathed in deeply.

"Cammie?"

I smiled in the dark. "Zach?"

I felt the bed move as he rolled over and I opened my eyes, facing him. He reached a hand out and with the back of his hand, stroked my cheek. My eyes fell close on their own accord.

"Cammie?"

"Zach?"

"I'm sorry."

My eyes opened again. "What for?"

"For being a dick. At the rehearsal when we danced."

"We're cool, Zach. No need to apologise."

My eyes were closed again and my mind was fogging over. I was getting sleepy and felt pretty darn comfortable.

"I never explained why," he said. I didn't speak and he continued. "Why it was easier for me to hate you. Why I keep saying 'Grant's cousin'. It's a reminder. Because you're gorgeous. And totally off-limits." His breath was hot on my ear. "And if you weren't Grant's cousin, gorgeous and off-limits, I wouldn't be able to stop myself."

**Did I or did I not tell you that you would love the ending? :P I'm psychic! (something I've been trying to convince my family and friends of for years, but have failed!) **

**Also, everybody has probably already heard the news, but GG 5 has a name and a cover! :O**

**Out of Sight, Out of Time**

**EEEK! CANNOT WAIT! **

**So opinions on the chapter!**

**Leave me a review and I'll send you a sneak peek of the next chapter. And after this kind of ending, you're gonna want a sneak peek ;)**

**Ellen!**


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CPOV

Something squeezed around my torso. My eyes peeled themselves open. But I couldn't see. Everything was... dark. Kinda like a dark brown...

Like the dark brown of Zach's hair. I closed my eyes and let my head fall to the side, hitting something kind of hard. Opening my eyes, I gazed at the scene. What little of it I could see, anyway. His arm rested over my stomach, blocking my view, his hand resting on my waist. A nice and muscled arm resting over my stomach, actually. My head rested in the crook of Zach's shoulder.

And he was shirless, displaying a very nice set of abs. How had I never noticed this before?

_Stop, Cammie. This is Grant's _best friend_, remember?_

I veered away from Zach, looking over to the alarm, suddenly repulsed by my thoughts (not). Stupid and big Zach was in the way. I looked over to the windows.

Sunlight cracked through the gaps in the curtains and I knew it was time. I slipped out of Zach's bed, careful not to wake him. And believe me, it was hard. Suddenly, overnight, I was seriously able to understand just how Godly attractive Zach was. In that moment, I felt like Barney Stintson then from How I Met Your Mother.

Maybe it was because I didn't have enough sleep.

"Cammie?"

Or I'd been abducted.

"Hello? Earth to Cammie?"

Had Zach drugged me throughout the night? Certainly seemed possible. This sudden change of heart was creeping me out big time.

"Cammie! Come on! The bell went." A hand touched my shoulder and I broke out of my thoughts.

"What?" I asked. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong," Bex said trying to hold back a smile, "Is that you've been staring off into space in the direction of a Mr Zachary Goode. Although, I suppose in your case it's not that bad." She turned, her shoulder touching mine and sighed. Zach was in our direct line of vision, sitting on the concrete wall. He half-turned towards us and I spun around, turning my back to him. Bex's eyes narrowed at me.

"What?" I asked, defensively. "The bell went and class is the opposite way to Zach."

"Uh-huh."

"Well? Let's go." I grabbed her arm and started steering her towards class. One glance over my shoulder and I met Zach's eyes. I turned my head so quickly the end of my hair hit my cheeks, feeling like quick whips. I quickened my steps. "Come on. We're gonna be late."

"Ouch! My arm!" Bex tugged on my arm. "Does someone have a very serious case of denial?"

"Denial? For what?"

"For Zachary," she sang.

"I do not!"

Macey walked over to us. "What's wrong?"

"Cammie has some serious sexual tension for Z and she's in denial."

I whirled around, my hands clenched at my side. "_I do not_! Stop it, Bex!" People around us turned in our direction.

Macey held her hands up in a police-surrender mode. "Whoa. Alright. Obviously you don't. Bex, drop it."

Bex's mouth dropped open. "B-But."

Macey waved her hand and Bex shut up. I turned sharp on my heel and stormed away. I did _not_ have sexual tension for Zachary Goode. None what so ever. I did _not_ like the way I felt waking up this morning. I have _never_ felt anything being around him. And I was so _not_ looking forward for rehearsals this morning.

I slumped in my chair in homeroom.

I was _so_ in denial about Zachary Goode.

BREAK

Recess came and went all too quickly as did English and Maths and suddenly it was lunch. I was still unsure how to deal with this whole in denial thing. There had only ever been one other time I'd been in serious denial. And that had gotten me kicked out of school and sent here. Moving again was not an option.

"Are you alright?" Liz asked quietly. Bex and Macey sat on the other side of the table, talking about 'fashion' when I kept hearing the words 'Grant', 'Cam', 'Zach' and 'Anna being tossed around. Unless they were talking about lack of style... I sighed. Did not want to get into it.

"I don't know, Liz. I _really _don't know."

"What's wrong?"

I looked across the court yard towards Zach. "Oh," Liz said. "Don't worry about them. No matter how serious it is, Grant and Bex always get back together. It's like a cycle," she whispered, smiling. "Like they're cursed or something."

I laughed, then sobered up. Curses made me think of fairytales, because the prince and princess always get back together. Always. But people like me don't get fairytales. A second chance was a big enough stretch after what I'd done. To _him_, to me. To all of those I had affected.

"Look," Liz stated, "Just ignore it for now. Besides, we have bigger things to focus on. Like the play and our exams." Liz patted the cover of her AP Physics textbook, flipped it open and went back to highlighting.

My eyes—and mind—drifted back to across the courtyard.

The play + last night = oh, crap.

BREAK

I lied down on the table, my eyes closed, praying somebody pulled the fire alarm. I wasn't ready. Not for this scene.

The last scene.

Zach stood to my side. I peeled my eyes open, twisting my wrist towards my face. Ten minutes left. Come on. Be _reeeeallll _slow, Zach. Holding the script up in the air he groaned in frustration. Obviously some of us were on the same page. Thank gosh.

"Mrs Burdette, can't we have an early mark? We're all tired."

I sprung up and others chimed in.

She crossed her arms. "Then perhaps you shouldn't have gone to bed so late last night, Zachary."

"Ten is early! I had a great sleep, actually."

My cheeks unexpectedly burn. Great sleep? Oh, God. So not helping my denial. Please tell me he's just saying that for whatever reasons go through his mind.

"Mrs," I croaked, deciding to take advantage of it. "Please. We all just had P.E and I'm not feeling too good. Ten minutes early leave won't hurt." More support from the rest of the class.

"I feel fine," Marc said, stepping forward. The glass turned around and glared at him. He took a step back.

"I don't," I argued.

Mrs Burdette dumped her script on the desk. "What the hell? You've all worked hard the past couple of weeks. Take an early mark."

The class cheered and I slid off the table, my eyes casted to the ground as I slip past Zach. A couple of the guys clapped my back and said, "good going" for getting us off early. Not that it mattered. By the time she said we could have the afternoon off, we would have stopped anyway. But I guess it did stop Zach and I from having to kiss.

I take the back way, walking out to the car park. Grant was meant to pick me up today. A decision that took ten minutes of solid arguing to get to. My phone vibrates in my pocket and I flip it open without looking at the caller.

"So, here's the thing," Grant started.

I stopped, about a hundred metres away from the car park. I can already see the cars that are parked there. And Grant's isn't one of them.

"You're not coming to pick me up," I finished.

"Well. There's been a slight delay..."

"What happened? Is everything alright?" Worst case scenario popped into my head. Aunt and Uncle in a car crash. Someone died. Someone had cancer. Someone was kidnapped.

Grant laughed. "Everything's fine. It's just that Anna wanted to go see that new movie and I told her I would—"

"Wait. Are you saying you're ditching _family_ for _girlfriend_?" I cried, throwing my hands up in my air.

"Not like that—"

"Yes like that!"

"If this was Bex—"

"Then she would have made up pick me up first, then take her to the movies. I cannot believe this."

"Cam—"

I hung up and kicked at the ground, dirt flying in the air, a few rocks falling into my boots. So not cool, Grant Newman. He was dead meat when I got home after walking. After my feet are covered in bruises. While I haven't finished fuming. I could already picture what I would put on his gravestone. 'Grant Newman. Family traitor.'

A car pulled up besides, the window wound down and Zach popped his head out. "Cammie, get in."

"I'm fine. Really. I've haven't done any exercise lately, anyway. This is good for my health." I quickened my pace.

Zach groaned and pulled the car over. I heard the 'beep beep' of the lock and the running of footsteps. "Now that I think about it, I haven't exercised in a while, either. And this way, we can exercise together and get all those angst feelings off our chest."

"Two birds with one stone?" I guessed.

"That's exactly it."

"Well, as it so happens, I don't feel like therapy today. Sorry."

"That's alright. Let's finish our game of twenty questions."

I pressed my lips together. Damnit, this guy does not give up. At all.

Zach looked at me. "Fine," he said. "I'll go first. What did last night meant to you?"

My legs itched to go faster. But then I'd be jogging and the fact that I wanted to get away would be even more apparent than ever. "What do you mean? It's not like anything actually happened. I didn't know how to handle this whole Grant and Bex thing and I turned to a friend."

"No. But I said stuff and I don't know how you're feeling about that. But since you've ignored me all day, I'm guessing those feelings aren't the same. So, what did last night mean to you?"

I stopped, rubbing my hands down my face. "I don't know, Zach. I have no idea what I'm feeling because I've been trying not to feel anything for you. You're Grant's best friend that I promised I would stay away from. And when I woke up this morning... I don't know!" I started walking again.

"Maybe I can help you decide."

"Don't cheat. It's my turn for the question. Why do my feelings matter?"

Zach shrugged. "I'm curious."

"So you don't actually have a need to know?"

"Hypocrite," he accused. "My turn. Do you want to kiss me?"

I could feel my cheeks heat up. Majorly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zach smile. He turned to me, grabbed my arm and pulled me behind the nearest tree. Pushing me against it, he leaned in close. I could see every shade of green in his eye, the faint freckle on his nose. Feel his breath on my lips.

"Because here's your chance."

My heart pulsed in my chest, practically leaping out of my skin. My hands, all on their own accord, reached out, slightly wrapping around Zach's fingers. I straightened my back, using one of the trees roots to boost my height.

"My turn. Do you want me to kiss you?"

Zach's eyes flickered to my lips and back to my eyes. He leaned a little closer and in anticipation I did too.

Zach whispered, "Actions speak louder than words."

And then we kissed.

BREAK

"I just don't know what I'm meant to do, Liz," I cried into my mobile phone. I squeezed it between my ear and shoulder and pulled my stir-fry pan off the stove. "Grant's my brother and she's my best friend."

"Just pretend the situation isn't a situation?" she suggested.

I scoffed. "Liz, you and Jonas are the geniuses in the group. Shouldn't you be coming up with the perfect idea?"

Liz laughed. "Nice try. But you're the relative, here. Shouldn't you know exactly what to do?"

I grabbed a plate. "I wish I did know. I just... Girlfriends aren't the situations Grant and I usually deal with. It's more family and darker stuff."

"Darker stuff?"

"Nothing, nothing," I said, cursing myself for almost slipping up. I stare at my plate, thinking hard. I needed to talk to Grant. I had to get him to understand. Bex made a mistake and mistakes happen.

"Maybe do exactly that. Nothing."

"I can't do nothing! If I do nothing—if we all do nothing—then we'll be in the same situation day in and day out. Do you want that?"

"No. But I want them both to be happy and right now Grant's happy. That's one. Now we just need Bex to be happy and then we're all good. We just need them both to know that we support them no matter what their relationship status is."

_Right now Grant's happy... we support them..._

"I got it!" I shouted, grabbing my dinner and placing it on the ground for the dog to eat. She waddles up slowly, watching me as if I'm about to wipe it from under her nose and shout 'sucker'. "You really are a genius, Liz. I'll see you tomorrow!" I hang up and start dinner all over again. Dinner for three this time.

A few hours later that night I sat at the kitchen bench, waiting for Grant to go home. I was still angry—though maybe not as much as I used to be—with him for ditching me for Anna. That was certainly the biggest dog act Grant had done since I'd gotten here. But I now knew what I had to do. What I should have done since the very beginning. A car's headlights flashed through the curtains as Grant pulled up. A minute later the door opened.

Grant laughed out loud and behind him in stumbled Anna. They continued talking for another minute.

"Hi," I said loudly, practically shouting.

Their laughter stopped. Anna glanced between us and Grant firmly grasped her hand. I spun on the seat to face them, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Hey, Cammie," Grant said.

Anna smiled and gave me a small wave.

Grant cleared his throat before I could even breathe. "Where's mum and dad?"

"They went out for dinner. Left me home alone to burn down the house while I cook." I wave my fork in the air. I cooked lasagne tonight for a reason. When we were kids, Grant used to coax me down from my room with lasagne so we could talk about why I was moody. The first time this happened I had found out the guy I had a crush on liked another girl. My then best friend in fact. It stung and I spent every minute I could in my bedroom for an entire week. It was Grant's lasagne that got me down and we talked. "I cooked lasagne."

"Smells good," Anna said, smiling.

I looked between them. Grant, with his arm now around Anna's waist and Anna looking picture perfect girlfriend. "Thanks," I said. "I cooked extra if you guys want to eat with me?"

Grant's mouth popped open a little and even Anna looked surprised. Anna recovered quickest. "Thanks, but no thanks. I actually have to get home. And we ate before."

"Oh."

"Do you want me to drop you off?" Grant asked.

Another car pulled into the driveway, sitting on the curb. "Again, thanks but no thanks. That's my dad."

"He got here quick," I commented.

"Yeah. I sent him a text when we left the movies." She smiled sheepishly. Grant grabbed her hand and said, "Well, I'll walk you out then." He grabbed her hand and dragged her out the door. Anna shouted something to me over her shoulder, but Grant slammed the door shut.

"Bye," I said to myself. I waited for Grant to walk back in, taking a bite of lasagne, my mouth watering. Damn I'm good sometimes, I think.

"What the hell was that?" Grant demanded, coming back in. I slid a plate over.

"I cooked too much and was wondering if you were hungry?"

Grant watched me for a moment, his eyes flickering back and forth to the lasagne. I hold out a fork for him and he took it, stabbing the lasagne. I take a bite of my own. We ate in silence for a few more minutes before I've decided it's time.

"I'm sorry," I said. Grant looked up from his dinner, his mouth stuffed with food. "I never should have said what I did about you and Anna. Or about Bex. You're with Anna now and I'm going to try and respect that and be the nice cousin."

"How nice?"

"As in I'll smile and make small talk with no underlying stabs in the gut. That kind of nice."

Grant shoved more food in his mouth.

"Say something?" I begged.

"I don't know what to say," he mumbled around his food. I was completely surprised that I even understood what he said. Must be a blood relative thing. "But why the sudden change?"

"I'm your cousin, not your mum. I don't have a say in who you date or way. And the same is vice versa. Even though I was trying to protect Bex, I hurt you. I didn't mean to." I glanced down. "I just want everything to be right, how it's suppose to be. But we're family. And family comes first. You were there for me so now I have to be there for you."

"You make it sound like an obligation," he accused.

I glared at him. "You're not an obligation, Grant. You're family. And I should have realised that before, okay? I'm sorry."

Grant stood up and walked over to my side. He wrapped an arm around me and I hugged him back. His head rested on top of my head. "Thanks, Cam. Lasagne was nice." I smiled into his shirt and he stepped back, walking away. Alright. Clearly I was stuck with doing the dishes tonight.

Again. Bloody boys.

Grant stopped and turned around. "And I still have a say in who you date, got it?"

I laughed. "Sure, sure, Grant."

**So, I didn't end up sending out teasers for this chapter. I figured the wait was long enough. But just so you know, I did read every single one of the reviews. And thank you, thank you, thank you! You guys amaze me every time with how many of you review and how much you love this story even with my lack of updates. **

**And about my lack of updates: I think I've got it now (kinda of). For a long time, I had no idea where this story was headed. I always had a few key ideas in my head, but never anything concrete enough to keep writing. But I've been hashing out a small outline, so hopefully updates will be a bit more frequent! *fingers crossed***

**Also, has anybody else read the first chapter of Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind? I did and I cannot wait! It's been almost two years since the last book was released. At least I'm quicker than that, aye ;) Haha.**

**Thank you guys again so so much! **

**Ellen. **


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

CPOV

"Hey, Joe!" I shouted, running up the steps to his front porch, knocking out of politeness. His black car was parked in the driveway and I waited a few more seconds, all the while tapping my foot, for him to answer. I knocked again. "Joe? Anybody home?" When no reply came, I grabbed my spare key and opened the door. The hallway was empty, but as I walked past the kitchen I noticed a half prepared meal. Joe's probably on the phone or something, I think and walk into the lounge room.

Joe's house is extremely impersonalised. There was nothing, said a few photographs, that displayed that he even lived here. But I'd known this house for years. I plonked down on the couch, pulling out my phone. I checked Joe's last message and then the time. I was five minutes later and Mr Ninja wasn't here to scold me the moment I was within a miles radius? I chewed on my lip. Maybe something was up.

I stood again and walked to the door. "Joe? Solomon?"

Out of nowhere, Joe appeared at the top of the stairs. His face was red—like he's angry and worry churned over in my stomach. "Joe? Everything alright?"

"Sorry. We're going to have to reschedule for another time. Something came up." He grabbed my elbow, steered me away from the stairs.

"Whoa. Is everything alright?" I asked, turning to him. He opened the door and slipped me through the smallest gap. The door scraped the edge of my nose.

"Not really. I'll call you later though, alright? Sorry, C—" He cut off the rest of my name, kissed me on the forehead and walked back inside. I heard the click of the lock and huffed. What the hell? Not only had we been planning this small at home 'vacation' for weeks, but I was genuinely looking forward to it. I stood on the porch, debating my plan of action for my way home. Aunty had already dropped me off and was planning a day out of town. Grant was probably with Anna—it being a Saturday and all—and uncle was out at a rugby match. Damnit. Looks like I'm walking, I thought jogging down the stairs. I reached the bottom of the steps when another voice freezes me.

"Who was at the door?"

"No one you care about," Joe replied.

Was it—could it?

I run around the edge of the house to the nearest side window, looking into the kitchen. Joe walked into the room, standing behind the counter, picking up where he took off. A woman, tall, strong and beautiful stormed in behind him. Her hair was pinned back into a tight ponytail and she wore the same style of clothes she wore when I was at Gallagher.

Mum.

"Was that Cammie?" she demanded, facing Joe. Joe didn't answer and Rachel demanded again, "Was that Cammie at the door, Joe?"

"Yes. Yes it was."

Rachel looked surprised and I ducked my head a little further down. "Why would you even assume that I don't care about my own daughter? My only daughter?"

"Why haven't you returned her phone calls?"

"Call. She called me once."

"Well why haven't you replied to it?" Rachel looked stunned for a moment and I suspected she truly didn't have an answer to the question. Joe nodded his head, glancing down at his food. "Just as I thought. You don't have enough time to reply to her phone call, yet you can come down here for a visit. Are you even going to see Cammie?"

I already knew the answer before the word even crossed her chap stick covered lips. "I came down here to check up on her."

"So why don't you go see her then? For yourself. Then you can judge how she's handling the move." Joe cut a carrot in half and the knife makes a bang as it slams against the cutting board. Rachel held her cool, though. Something I did not inherit from her.

"Like she would tell me the truth. She trusts you. You're the only one who can give me an honest and accurate answer."

Joe stared at her. "I'm not giving you an answer."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not betraying her trust! Not like you did with her. I'm here for her when she needs me, it's always been that way. You need to be too."

I lowered down into a crouch, placing my back against the wall. I listened to my mother's arguments, her pathetic excuses as to why she's never there, how she's always too busy. How she never planned her things to turn out this way and she doesn't know how to fix them. I listened and tears pricked my eyes, staining my cheeks before I can listen to this shit no more and run away.

BREAK

I waited for her visit all day—and night. I waited, assuming she'd feel some amount of guilt and would realise her mistake. That I made a mistake and regret it with my every breath. I waited, assuming that she would come over to say hello, if not to make amends. I waited and at ten o'clock at night, I assumed she would at least give me a damn phone call. Man, I was one big idiot.

I knew the saying about what happens when you assumed and it had totally come true.

_Damnit, Cammie. You should never get your hopes up when it comes to that woman._

I dived into the backyard pool, running my hands along the bottom and waiting until my lunges ached until I surfaced for air. I floated on my back for a moment until I decided I liked being underwater a hell of a lot better. I dived under, reaching the bottom, struggling to stay there. I let the breath go out of my lungs slowly and sit there until they're burning and I can no longer stay under. I cling to the edge of the pool, my forehead pressed against the concrete border.

"Cammie!" Hands shook my shoulders. A second later, the lifted me out of the pool, onto the ground.

"Off!" I grunted. "What the hell?"

A head hovered above me, close, and their hand was rested on my thigh. I couldn't see their face. I could hardly see anything. My heart started to race and I acted on instinct. I slapped their hand away, rolled out from under them and let my leg fly into their chest, knocking them over.

"Cammie!" the voice hissed, backing away. "It's me. Zach."

My hands were clenched, ready to punch and I stood in the right position, my knees slightly bent in case I needed to charge or dodge. But when Zach's words registered in my brain, I still wanted to punch him.

"You _idiot_." I swung, intending to slap his arm, and he stepped out of my way. "Who the hell attacks somebody in the middle of the night?"

"Somebody who thought somebody might have been trying to kill themself!"

"Why would somebody possibly think that?"

"I don't know," he said sarcastically. "Because that other somebody didn't surface from the water for a very long time."

I threw my arms in the air. "This is ridiculous. I wasn't trying to kill myself. I just prefer it down there."

He snorted.

"What? You don't have a place that you think is better than being up here?"

He looked away and I smiled, triumph coating it. "At least it's not endangering to myself," he mumbled. I smiled, but turned my head into my shoulder, pretending not to hear him. Silence overtook the words, but a feel tugged at me. Regret... And Shame. What if I had secretly wanted that to happen? What if I didn't end up coming up? I could lose everything. My friends, family, and a future.

"Thank you," I said, looking at him. "I wasn't trying, but it could have happened. It doesn't take much for darkness to be permanent anymore." My voice was bitter and tears pricked my eyes, a name whispered by the wind made shivers crawl up my back.

James.

I wiped at the hot tears that slid down my cheeks and stood. My clothes clung to me and it only just occurred to me now I was in my pyjamas. I wrapped my arms across my chest and walked inside.

"Cammie?"

I turned around. There was a sweet, honest smile on his face. "Don't make me or anyone else do that again." My stomach tightened and I realised immediately what that feeling was. It was nervousness and excitement. His smile... He walked away and now it was my turn to make him pause.

"Zach?" I glanced down to the ground. "If I didn't make this deal with Grant... I might actually be tempted to sexually attack you right now."

Okay. So. That was _not_ what I was planning on saying. I spun around and sprinted inside, making sure to lock the door behind me and not check if he was still standing there. But he was. And his mouth was gaping open just the slightest, a dazed look on his face.

BREAK

The next day, I could feel his eyes burning into me. But I rejected my automatic response to hunch over, turn my head and use my head as a curtain. That was not this new Cammie. New Cammie was smart, confident and did not do anything the Old Cammie would do. And that included _the _incident.

"Cammie!" Oh God. He was _calling out to me!_ I quickened my pace, bursting into the building. "Wait." His hand grabbed my arm, spun me around and I blinked, pretending to be surprised. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," I said, raising my voice for effect. "Fine. I think that concussion from last night wore off."

"Concussion?" His brow furrowed, but his lips twitched in amusement.

"Yeah. You know... the concussion."

"Right."

"Uh huh," I said immediately afterwards. What happened to my lying abilities? Did they disappear on me or something? Some skill that was. "So what's up?"

"Do we have rehearsal today? I kinda lost my schedule."

"Oh. Ah, no. We don't." He hummed, his face dropping in the slightest. "Are you alright, Zach?"

"Yeah, yeah. Fine. I was wondering if you needed a life home today? I know Grant's going out after school and I drove..."

I blinked, kind of frozen, but the world around me kept moving. Zach raised an eyebrow. "Um. Look, I don't—"

Zach moved closer, brushing up against me to whisper in my ear. "I need to talk to you. It's important."

"Fine," I caved. "I'll be at your car, waiting. Bye." I spun around, my knuckles strained white and couldn't get away fast enough.

BREAK

All day I tried to find another way home. Hell, even walking wouldn't be too bad. I could do it. If I hadn't decided to wear a new pair of wedges to school that weren't broken in to the point of long walks home.

I walked up to Zach's car, which was already rumbling, and got in. The first thing I noticed, besides Zach, was that it smelled clean. Really clean. As in, it didn't have dirt, chocolate bar wrappers and powerade bottles like Grant's car did. And it didn't smell of sweat. I clicked my seat belt in and he drove off.

I sat there in silence, knowing that the trip home wouldn't take all that long. It'd be over before I knew it. Except for the fact that Zach was pulling the car over and we weren't home. Nowhere close.

"Zach?" Nerves made my voice shaky.

"Relax. I just wanna talk." He turned the radio down and I swallowed.

"Okay then. Talk."

"What happened last night? And I want the truth, Gallagher Girl. Not some wish-washy lie like you can tell."

My hands clenched in my seat. "Look, I don't know what came over me exactly, okay? I was obviously frustrated and I wouldn't really _attack _you like that. Not that you aren't attractive and all—" My cheeks blazed and Zach just frowned.

"I was talking about the swimming thing. Not the... other thing." Zach looked away and it took me a moment to realise he was blushing, too. My eyes widened and I looked away. I was the biggest idiot on the planet. Biggest. Ever.

"Right. Of course that's what you wanted to talk about."

Zach cleared his throat and turned to look at me. "What happened?"

I closed my eyes and drew in a shaky breath. I didn't wanna talk about it, but I needed to talk to someone. And Zach would be the right person. He was kind at times and Grant's best friend so he wouldn't go out to try and hurt me. I could trust Zach.

"My mum's in town."

He studied my face. "And you don't like your mum?"

I shrugged. "It's complicated. My dad died about a year ago and since then I ... I got into some trouble. Mum wasn't being supportive so I went and found new ways to make myself better. I was fine, I just needed my mum. But then some... stuff happened and she sent me here because Gallagher Academy wasn't the best place for me apparently. Since then I haven't spoken to her. I left her a call and she never replied." Tears slid down my cheeks, but I barely noticed. My vision blurred. "I went to Joe's—Mr Solomon's—yesterday and she was there. But she wouldn't come see me. She wanted to use Joe as her personal messenger because she couldn't have the guts to come see me herself." The tears rushed faster now and my chest ached. How could she? She was my mother. She was meant to be there for me when I needed her.

Zach unclipped his seat belt and reached over to pull me into his hug. He smelled nice and was warm. I wanted to wrap myself in that scent and heat forever and never let go. It was so comforting. _He_ was so comforting. He rubbed my back and my hair, whispered words to me to calm me down.

I pulled back, staring outside my window.

"Cammie. Why were you sent here?" he whispered.

The words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them. "Because I got my teacher killed."

**WHHHAAAAT?**

**Yes. Yes, that's what happened. The specifics might surprise you. And because of that, to the person who either A) guesses it right or B) gets closest to the truth, I'm going to offer up a massively awesome, juicy OR a romantic scene from Cammie and Zach that I've written for a future scene. So guess away when you review!**

**I'm going to try and get ahead with writing. That way I can start sending out teasers to those who review. And thank you guys so much for being here even though it's been an insane four months since I last updated! And this was such an emotional chapter! Gah. Angst, angst, angst. But don't worry. The juicy stuff is coming soon ;)**

**I almost have an outline completely finished so you can bet that the chapter's should (no promises since I'm in my last year of high school!) come out a bit quicker. I'm going to put in more effort because every review I see makes me smile so much. **

**Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!**

**Ellen. **


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I sucked in a seriously sharp breath. So sharp, it probably could have cut the inside of my throat. What the F had I done? Blurt out my biggest secret as if death was no big thing. I knew it was a massive thing, but Zach—I risked a glance at his face and wished I hadn't.

There was nothing worse than seeing understanding and compassion when you least deserve it. And when they really had no idea what you had actually done.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I shouldn't have—forget it—"

Zach's hand zapped out and gently grabbed my arm. "Stop, Cammie. Okay? I asked. Don't—don't feel like you can't trust me. Never apologise for being honest."

"There's such a thing as being too honest." I grabbed my bag and turned to the door. _Click_. The lock on the door was pulled down. I frowned at Zach. "So much for just wanting to talk. Do you do this to all the people who don't wanna talk to you?" I spat, glowering.

Zach studied my face and I had a hard time not squirming under the pressure. I knew what I was doing because I was so damn good at it. And I may or may not have had been the bullseye for it. No matter how many times I told myself 'words will never hurt me', I knew firsthand how full of bat stuff that rhyme was. Meant to make you strong and turn your back on the bullies, it didn't work. I could dish it better than I could take it. But I had a feeling that was a universal thing.

"Gallagher," he spoke softly. His tone reminded me of a forest—where I could go away from civilization and just be by myself. Be one with nature and all that zen advice. I blinked and drew back—unaware that I had leaned closer to his green eyes. Damn the green forest.

"What?"

_Click_. The doors unlocked. "I'll always be here. Know that alright?"

I swallowed. 'Here' emotionally or 'here' as in satisfying my crazy hormones? I decided asking that wouldn't be appropriate and settled for, "Are you sure about that? You don't know everything."

He grabbed my hand. "Cameron. I'm about to go all corny and in-touch with my feelings, so bare with me. I'm your friend. Friends are there for each other. If you want to tell me what really happened, you can. In your own time. The only thing that matters to me right now is getting you home all in one-mental piece." He pushed my hair behind my ear and I knew that if I didn't back off I'd sexually attack him as I had promised to last night.

I didn't move back.

I leaned forward, pressing my forehead to his and breathed. Just breathed, enjoying the presence of Zach and knowing that for once I really had somebody I could depend on. Somebody who would confront me and be there for me. I squeezed his hand tighter. "Thank you."

I opened my eyes and his were _right there_.

"No problem."

I chewed on my lip. "Would it be horrible if I asked for one more favour?"

"No. What is it?"

"Will you drop me off at Joe's? There's somebody I need to speak to."

"Can I ask of a favour of my own?" he asked.

"Sure." The least I could do.

"Don't ever repeat that little speech I made. The guys would kill me if they heard I thought that, let alone actually said it."

I laughed and it felt like the greatest relief off my shoulders in a very long time.

BREAK

I used the spare key Joe gave me to get in when nobody answered the door. There was no way to know for certain if she was still even here—the lack of answer may have made me doubt, but I knew my mother. She was her best when she was a fly on the wall.

"Hello?" I called out, dumping my school bag in the doorway. I turned to look out the door and watched the last of Zach's car disappear. I didn't want any witnesses for this. Especially not after my breakdown. Two in one hour on one person? Even I wasn't that mean.

I was mean enough to dump it on my absent mother though.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" I sung, wandering through to the kitchen.

"There's no need to yell, Cameron," my mother said. She sat at the small circle table in the empty space in front of the kitchen bench. For a single guy who didn't cook, Joe had a chef's home-kitchen dream.

"You didn't seem to think that when you were yelling at Joe yesterday."

She stared at me evenly. "How do you know about that?"

I pointed to my chest and said, "Spy." And then felt badass and guilty. Badass because mum wouldn't have a response and guilty because I kind of stole Zach's catchphrase. Oh well. It was for a good cause. "Why are you in town?"

"I'm just visiting."

"I gathered since you hadn't rolled out the 'home sweet home' mat. But _why_ are you visiting?"

"Because I can."

"You don't have a school to run?"

"Cammie," she sighed. "For once, stop back-chatting and just accept it."

I snorted. "Isn't back-chatting how a conversation works? You talk _back_ and forth?"

Rachel took a sip of her drink. "Want me to make you some? It's tea."

I scrunched my nose. "No."

"Are you going to sit?"

"No. I'll stand. I sat down all six hours at this school you shipped me off to when you decided you couldn't handle having a daughter." You should have used a condom then, I thought. I was tempted to say it aloud. But since I didn't have a death wish at this very moment, I decided against it.

"Cameron." Her voice grew sharper. I'd hit a soft spot. Good. I leaned against the archway, looking down at my nails. I needed to file them back a little if I didn't want to scratch someone's face off in PE. Sneaking a glance at mum, I considered the possibility. No. As much as I disliked her at the moment, she was still a Morgan.

She'd go dobbing to Grant's parents.

"If you're only here to visit, and you're only visiting because you can, is that why you haven't come to see me?"

She stared me in the eye. "You look better."

"Is that why you haven't come to see me?" My throat started to choke up.

"I checked your grades. You're doing a lot better here. Got the lead in the musical."

"Is that why you're here?" Try a different tactic. Rachel stood and placed her cup in the sink. She turned to face me, took two steps before I straightened from the wall and moved away from her. I didn't want her near me. "Just tell me, okay? I'm over this whole guess-and-lose game."

"We aren't playing a game, Cammie. People's lives are not games."

I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling like I'd just been punched in the stomach by an entire team of grid iron players. It _hurt_. Tears blurred my vision now. "I didn't make him do anything. He chose that."

"He chose that because of you."

I clenched my hands by my side. "Is that why you're here? To ridicule me and make me feel more guilty than I already do? As if I could get worse. Oh, wait. No. I can. You'ved proved that more times that I have fingers to count." Spinning on my heel, I marched to the door. I grabbed my bag with my left hand, my right still clenched so tightly my fingers dug into my palm.

"Cameron, come back here—" She grabbed my arm, squeezing tightly and I did the most stupidest thing I had done since I got here.

I punched her.

BREAK

"She's fine," Grant told me, walking into my room without knocking. "Her shoulder isn't even red anymore. You must have been too angry to aim as well as you hoped."

I wrapped my arms around my legs, resting my chin between my knees. I breathed in and breath out deeply. I focused my thoughts on things that wouldn't get me angry. Singing, dancing, moving. I didn't think about how to do all those things you had to be living. I couldn't delve into the James situation. I'd just proved to myself that I wasn't ready to forgive her—or myself.

"Cammie?"

"Leave me alone, Grant," I whispered.

My rocking chair rocked back and forth. I gripped the blanket I had wrapped around my legs tighter.

"Are you alright?" Grant asked, moving to sit on my bed.

"I'm fine. Now leave." I didn't speak with anger—I couldn't bring myself too.

Grant snorted. "Do you know what Rachel's saying down there? That you need to go to counselling. And get back on the meds."

I clenched my eyes shut. I had already guessed as much. "The only prescription I need is get-Rachel-out-of-my-life stuff."

"Cam, that doesn't even make sense."

"It does to me."

This time, his snort sounded like laughter. I turned my head into my knees, angling my face away from his, allowing myself to smile.

"How long is she staying for?" I whispered.

Grant patted down my hair and my eyes fell shut. It reminded me of being a kid again. How I missed that so, so much. There were no complications, nothing adult and nothing serious. The majority of my time as a kid was spent wishing I was older. I was such an idiot.

There was nothing great about being responsible for someone's death.

There was nothing great about punching your mother.

And there was definitely nothing great about going back on the crazy meds.

"I don't know, Cams. I'm guessing she might stay for a while now."

I pretended not to hear that, but I sucked at pretending. I lifted my head. "Tell them I want her gone, okay? Tell them that when she's here all I want to do is scream and cry at the same time. I can't be around her, Grant. Not when she abandoned me when I needed her most."

"She didn't—"

"She shipped me away!" I almost shouted. "What part of being shipped away without even a goodbye says 'I love you so much'?" I stood. "It doesn't. I want her gone. And if nobody will tell her that then I will." I shoved past him and marched downstairs. "Rachel!" I called out.

"Cammie, no!" Grant.

"Rachel, I want you gone. Now." I walked around to the living and stopped short. There sitting on the couch was my counsellor and psychiatrist sitting with Grant's parents and my mum and even Joe. They—David and Kim—stood.

I lowered my voice. "What are they doing here?"

"Hello, Cammie." Kim smiled. The counsellor. "How have you been?"

David spoke without giving me the chance. "We've heard you need our help again."

Tears flowed down my cheeks and when I stepped back to escape them, Grant held me still. He whispered in my ear, "I'm so sorry, Cam" and I knew.

I was going back on the meds.

**Whoa. So I have no idea where this chapter came from. It kind of just wrote itself that way, I guess. For those who write, I guess you know what I'm talking about in a way. But it definitely fits into the background building and builds character, so despite much debate on my half, I've decided to keep it.**

**And thank you guys so much for sticking around. It really amazes me how much you guys love this story and I will finish it! I have over 400 reviews on this story and I just love the enthusiasm you guys give for it. It really does motivate me, even if it might not seem like it at times.**

**Also, last chapter I mentioned a little steamy scene for whoever was closest to what Cammie's big secret was and I thought I'd let you know that that ship has sailed. I should have mentioned that it was only for that chapter, but there was a close-ish answer. And no I won't tell you who it was ;P**

**Also, don't forget to review for a teaser from the next chapter. It is done and dusted and I'm just finishing chapter fifteen soon, so look out people! **

**Ellen.**


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CPOV

Back in Gallagher, after the James incident, I went even more downhill. It re-started with the drinking. Then the "smoking"; I could never actually do it right, so after the first time I decided if I was going to die it wasn't through coughing to death. After that failure, I did whatever I could that worked.

Apparently repressing your feelings was the most effective method.

Once I was caught though, I went off to a camp with a fresh bottle of pills filled to the rim that would 'fix me up'. I had been diagnosed with depression.

To be perfectly honest, I don't think I had depression. I think it was a mixture of shock and denial. But apparently that was all I needed.

There was nothing nice about the meds. They were my third-worst nightmare that came true of all time. First was Dad, second was James, and third was the meds. "No," I whimpered. "No. I don't want the meds. I'm fine. I'm not depressed, I'm angry." I almost said mad then, which I was sure wouldn't help my case.

Kim stepped forward. "Cammie, you obviously need our help."

"I don't! Look at my school records, look at my clean behaviour record." I refined from saying 'look at me' because I doubted I looked all that well right now. I felt like I was on the verge of desperation, about to fall into a deep pit that I didn't think I would be able to climb back out of. "I'm fine. It's just been a really bad day."

"Cammie," David spoke softly.

"It's true!" I protested. "I've been fine since I got here. Until today, I haven't once acted out. Behaviour or emotionally. I'm completely fine!"

"What makes today so different to the rest of the days?" Kim asked.

I stared at her dumb-founded. "Are you an idiot? You've listened to me pour my heart out and don't even think it's a coincidence that the one day I break down is the day the woman who I called my mother _who abandoned me_ turns back up? The signs are right in front of you!" I shouted.

Rachel turned to me. "Cammie, stop."

"No. You stop. I was fine until you came back. Fine." My mind was reeling. I needed to get out of this situation. I couldn't take the meds. I couldn't. I would vomit them back up every morning and night if I had to. Done it once before and lived. "Those meds didn't make me _feel _better. I _feel_ good. Finally. After everything that's happened, being here has made me feel good."

"But it hasn't made you _act_ good," David pointed out.

"I've been doing boxing every three days with Joe to get out my anger and control it. You can't say that because of one bad thing in the entire two months I've been here means I have to go back on the meds."

I don't need any of this yet I still do it to keep you damn people pleased! Desperation claws at me. I would not go back on the meds. I'd flush them down the toilet, I'd even sell them if I had to. They'd disappear and it wouldn't be through my consuming them.

"It's what's best—" Rachel begun.

I whirled on her. "You can't make that decision. You haven't been with me here. Aunty and uncle have. They should be the ones to make the decision. They are my legal guardians after all," I spat.

Rachel flinched. "I'm still your mother."

"And how often have you been there for me?"

Her face paled and she looked away. Kim and David glanced at each other and nodded to Grant over my shoulder. Grant gently directed me away from the scene. I didn't fight it. I was too shocked. "You shouldn't have done that," Grant said when we walked into the kitchen, away from the others. I sat on the stool, burying my face in my hands.

"I know," I groaned, shivering with anger. I shouldn't have, but it felt damn good to get that off my chest. "There's no need to tell me."

"Really? Because it looked like to me that it kinda needed to be said."

I sat there, unsure as to what I should do, say, think. Feel. That was the big one. Because whatever my emotions are right now will determine what happens. I needed to stay in control. Completely and utterly in control of everything—my emotions, my actions, my life. I sat in there in a numb silence until about ten minutes later, footsteps sounded behind me. I looked up—Grant's back was to me which limited the options as to who it could be.

I spun around on my chair.

Mother.

"Cammie," she said almost gently. I could never believe she'd do anything gentle to me anymore. Not after the James thing and most definitely after the today thing.

I was starting to build up a lot of 'things'.

"We came to the conclusion that your uncle and aunt will make the decision as you made a valid... point that I have not been around to make a completely certified judgement."

"I thought to make a certified judgement in this situation you needed some sort of psychology degree?" I crossed my arms over my chest.

Pain was there on her face as quickly as it was gone. "I'm going to stay in town for a few more days. I need to speak to some people about issues involving Gallagher. If you wish or need to see me—" Her hand lifted out towards me as if she were going to touch me. I could only stare. She'd never given me that sort of attention before. Never, ever. Her hand dropped and my stomach seemed to harden over. "Your aunt has all my contact details."

I nodded my head. I doubt anything could happen that would make _me_ go to _her_. I've been down that road too many times to arrive at a 'no through road' sign. "Okay," I told her.

She nodded, grabbed her bag and walked out of the house. Aunty and uncle walked into the room then, not wasting any time offering the verdict. They stood a few feet away from me, staring at me with sympathetic eyes. Like I didn't control my own actions. If I wanted to, I could dig down deep to the part of me that might have enjoyed what I had done. But I wouldn't do that.

"I'm sorry," I said, staring at the floor. Looking in their eyes hurt. Seeing all the emotion. I thought one of those might have been love. "I didn't mean to. I know it sounds ridiculous to say this, but I really didn't meant to and it really did just happen."

"We know," aunty said.

My gaze snapped to their faces. Joe walked into the room and touched Aunty's shoulder. She stared at the other two men hard and her, Grant and uncle left the room. It was just Joe and I.

"What's the verdict?" I asked. I didn't need to fake it with Joe, I knew. He knew me almost as well as I know myself. The only person who knew me better than me was dad... And he wasn't around anymore.

"You're not going on the meds."

"What?" I felt like I'd been punched. In a sort of good way.

"We've been watching you, Cam. Keep tabs all the time even if you don't know it. You're doing extremely well in school, you have friends that are good influences, and you're getting involved in the school. You have changed so much since your mum sent you here."

"You mean I've changed so much since I was sent to camp."

Joe hugged me. He engulfed me, really. I wrapped my arms around him tight, breathing him in and relishing in what smelt like family to me. I felt his chest rumble against my head as he laughed.

"No, Cammie. You really have changed. For you, done by you."

I started crying then. Joe just rubbed my back, whispered words, just being there. That was all I needed. I needed a family to be there. Not to judge, to think for me. But to be there for me. "Can I stay at yours for tonight? I need space," I whispered.

"Get your stuff. I'll be downstairs," Joe said and I bolted to my room. Throwing in random pieces of clothes, I didn't really care all that much. If needed to, I'd just return home and make myself look presentable. That was all people—my mother—cared about. Keeping appearances.

I ran out of the house without so much as a glance to anybody. I didn't need to, anyway, confident that Joe would take care of it. Joe was like my safety net. Every time I fell too hard, he caught me just before impact. I had no doubt he pulled some strings inside. He always did and I could only hope that he always would.

Joe got in the car and we drove off. We were silent for the first few minutes before I had to say something. Not because of the silence, but because I needed to.

"I'm not going crazy, Joe. Honestly." I stared at him. "Just... seeing her there and what we were talking about. What I did was wrong and I regret it so much. It was... happened."

"I understand you, Cammie. But you also need to understand that there will be punishment for what you do. Even if you didn't hit your mother, you had the intention of hitting her and above the shoulder line. Right now, I'm giving you a pass to come to terms with everything, but when you go back there will be a consequence and I don't think you'll like it."

"Do you know what it is?" I whispered.

"No. And I'm not going to get involved either before you ask. It's up to Brenda and Mike to decide since you are living under their roof now."

"I wish mother understood that last part as well as you did." I turned away to stare out the window. We rolled into the driveway, the garage's automatic door rolling up and then back down as we parked inside. The darkness made me feel enclosed.

"Cammie." Joe gently touched my arm. I turned to stare at him, hoping that I did look as bad as I felt. Today has been such a screwed up day. "We'll get through this. It'll be tough, but we'll do it."

That's what I loved about Joe, I realised. No matter the situation, it was always 'us' and 'we'. Never 'you'. He had my back from day one and throughout all the stuff ups I had made, he continued to have my back.

My eyes watered and I reached across the seat, I don't think I even put my seat belt on I realised, and hugged him. "Thank you. I love you, Joe." Hot tears ran silently down my cheeks.

Joe rubbed my back in a circular motion. "I love you too. I'll always be here for you."

"You promise?" My voice sounded weak, like a child's.

"I promise." Joe's steady, strong and self-assured voice made me want to be stronger. To be better. I would be stronger and I would be better.

For Joe and for me.

GRANT POV

I stood at the concrete wall by the front of the school, twenty minutes earlier than I usually get here, waiting for Joe's car to roll in. I hadn't spoken to Cammie since yesterday afternoon and while deep down I actually wanted her to stay home and rest, I knew she'd come to school. Cammie's a trooper; she wouldn't back down from one day of school. She always would act as if everything that didn't happen happened.

Slowly, cars, buses and people rolled in, filling the school grounds with chatter. Anna, Kim and the football team all arrived at our ritual morning spot. Even Bex, Macey, Jonas and Liz (who had molded their way into our suddenly very un-status quo group) even arrived.

"Where's Cammie?" Bex asked me. Quieter she said, "Is everything alright?"

Bex was the only person who knew out of anyone outside the family as far as I knew. And it wasn't because Cammie told her either. Guilt, also with a touch of non-guilty resolution, swirled deep in my stomach about what I had told Bex when Cammie first started school. It wasn't my secret to tell, and I still trusted Bex to keep a secret (but I did not trust her to ever accept my date proposals), but should I have told her?

I shrugged my shoulders. "Yeah. She stayed with Joe last night that's all."

"Joe?"

"Oh, right. Mr Solomon."

From across the parking lot Zach pulled in and waved, jogging over to our spot. He looked from Bex's face to mine and tensed up. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I growled, giving Bex a pointed glance. "I'm just waiting for Cam to arrive."

"She didn't come with you?"

"She stayed at Joe's," I explained.

"Oh." He nodded his head as if that was perfectly reasonable. I frowned. Did Zach and Cammie get close enough for him to know the relationship between Cammie and Joe? Does he know that she would turn to him? Does he—Am I over thinking this?

I cleared my throat. "So, Zach, about you and C—" My words broke off as I recognised Joe's familiar black car roll into the teachers designated car park, into the same slot he had parked in for the past four (was it four or five) years he'd been teaching here. I slipped down from my podium and pushed Zach and some guy out of my way as I walked towards the car.

"Cam!" I shouted, waving an arm. Cammie, who had just gotten out of the car, froze and stared at me dead straight in the eye. For some reason, my stomach grew cold and clenched tightly. She slammed the car door shut and bolted away from me.

Joe shrugged a shoulder in my direction and took off after her.

My arm, which I had still been waving, dropped dead limp at my side.

"So, I repeat my question: is everything alright?"

"Yeah, man," Zach said popping on my other side. "That did not look alright. Her face was pale and she looked..." His words died off. I understood. There wasn't a word to describe how Cammie was right now. It was like the sunshine which usually radiated from her was... moonlight, I guess. Dark.

"Grant, what happened?" Bex again.

I clenched my eyes shut. It was like having a bloody angel and devil on either side of my shoulder. Only this time there were arguing the same side.

Zach clapped a hand on the back of my shoulder. "You should think about working on your metaphors, bro."

Oh. I said that aloud.

"That was a simile," Bex corrected. "Maybe do your homework on the advice you're giving before you give it out, okay Zach?"

I choked on a laugh that instantly died at the knowledge that Cammie wouldn't be laughing.

"Grant," Bex said gently. "You can talk to me, alright?"

I stared into her eyes, wanting to believe her, needing to. I needed somebody else to help me deal with Cammie. She'd been doing so well but yesterday's episode was scary. To see her freaking out, her rambling, her fear. I could finally understand why she was prescribed medication and sent to camp. It wasn't because of what happened with James—it was how she reacted.

"I'm going to find Cammie."

**So, I know I seem to be apologising a lot, but sorry sorry sorry! I have officially finished high school so the past few months have been filled with exams, studying, graduation and formal prep. I'm finally getting back into the swing of things and I promise that I won't abandon this story no matter what it might seem like!**

**I always wanted to thank you all for your support and reviews. Usually I send out individual thank you's each chapter with a teaser for the next, but I figured you guys have waited long enough for this chapter so you deserve it right off the bat. So thank you. Your voice and support does mean everything, truly!**

**I'd also like to tease you a little bit now with this knowledge: what you guys have been waiting for is coming soooooon. And it could be a number of things that you've been waiting for, but I'm not saying anymore than that.**

**Thank you for everything and shout me a line with what you thought of the whole medication thing!**

**Ellen.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Be warned: this scene contains some language and stronger than usual themes.**

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CPOV

"Morning," someone said to my side. I blinked and shut my locker. Grant leaned on the locker next to mine—Bex's.

"Hi," I said numbly. Did I sound kind of hollow? Because to me I sounded kind of hollow.

"How are you?" he asked. I shoved the books in my bag and started walking to class. Convincing Joe to drive to school later than usual meant that I had half the usual amount of time to get myself together which was the plan in aiding me to avoid confrontation after my abrupt departure.

"I'm fine."

Grant grabbed my arm, pulling me to a stop in the middle of the traffic filled hallway. A kid bumped into my back and muttered a half-hearted apology. Grant looked around and grabbed the door to the nearest classroom and shoved me in. He leaned against the door, looking much like the protective and no-bullshit cousin he's always been. I sat on top of a desk.

"How are you?" he asked again.

I sighed. "I told you I'm fine."

"You do not look fine."

"I didn't sleep well."

"Don't you girls have that face stuff to make you look... normal."

I raised an eyebrow. "Face stuff? Normal?"

"You know what I meant." He had the decency to look embarrassed.

"It's called foundation" —Grant started clicking his fingers at me with a grin—"and I'm wearing some."

He leaned forward, peering at my face. If he was close enough I would have slapped him. "Back off, Grant."

He sighed this time. "I'm just worried about you, Cam."

"Well don't be. I can look after myself."

"Sure you can," he snorted.

"What's that supposed to me?" My voice rose and I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Did you not look in the mirror this morning? Because you look like shit. Did you forget what happened yesterday afternoon? Because I'm guessing that's exactly why you look like shit."

"Yeah, it is. But I need time to cope and deal with it okay? So. Back. Off." I was standing, my hands clenched at my sides.

Grant didn't even blink in my direction. "You're not dealing well, Cammie."

"I'm dealing the best way I can, Grant. I'm not going back on the meds. I won't."

"Why not? What's so bad about them?"

The meds weren't there to help me, they were there to control me. Every pill stopped my natural reactions from occurring. I was a hostage to them. I had it in me to get everything under control. I spent the second half of camp faking those pills. It's not the flushing them down the toilet without anyone noticing that was hard. It was the stopping. Because once I took them and felt the effect, I knew I'd need them. That I wouldn't want to get off them.

"I won't be that girl again. I'm a new person here, Grant." I met his gaze and fought back the guilt of seeing the hopeless look on his face that was there because of me. "And this new me is going to get better without the meds."

"You need the meds." Grant's voice was steel. Hard, unforgiving. "You're not getting better without them. Short-term, yes. Long-term, no."

"_No_."

The school bell rang for a second time. The sound of students chattering ceased, but we continued our stand-off.

"I'm going to class, Grant. Tardy's will only make things worse for me." It was a low blow, but I needed to get the hell out of here. Grant sighed, but moved away from the door and I headed towards my first class. When I reached the cross section in the halls, I turned back to check on Grant. It wasn't that hard of a decision to make. I should have felt guilty, I should have thought about the consequences, but I didn't care. I needed escape. I needed to leave.

So instead of turning right to my classroom, I turned left to the exit.

BREAK

I'm not sure how long it was until they found me. Sitting in the massive tree that sat past the backyard fence, I knew it would be eventually. What I hadn't counted on was it being Zach to find me.

"Cammie?"

I sighed, gripping the branch and looking down. Zach stared up at me from below, no judgement in his eyes.

"Are you coming down?"

"Not anytime soon if I get my way."

Zach chuckled. "Not even to talk to me?"

"You could come up here."

"Three's a crowd between you, me and that branch." I glanced at the space and sighed. Zach was right. There was no way he'd fit up here with me. Not entirely sure why, I started to climb down. Jumping from a branch, I didn't bother to stand when I landed, but rather flopped down to lean against its truck. Zach joined me.

"Grant's freaking out about you. So is Solomon."

"They don't need to."

Zach played with the ends of a twig. "They're not worrying because they need to. They're worrying because they love you."

"If they loved me they wouldn't make me—" I stopped.

We didn't talk for a while. We sat there under the tree, letting the breeze fill our silence. Zach reached over and grabbed my hand, rubbing circles with his thumb into my palm.

"You can trust me, Cammie. I know it must be scary for you, but I'm here."

Unwanted tears burned my eyes. "I don't want you to judge me or treat me differently. I _can't_. This is my do-over. I can't have the past influence what people think of me. I won't let it!" I burst into tears and Zach puts his arm around me, murmuring random words.

I sniffled. "I want to tell you, I want to trust you, I do. But I can't—"

"Cam, I wouldn't think of you any differently. I know you for who you are now. The present you. The past made you who you are now, but that doesn't mean you're the same person. You grow in life. It's natural."

I rubbed my hands on my jeans and moved away. Our faces were still close together and I could him. Only him. His green eyes made me want to talk, to trust him. But it wasn't just his green eyes, it was him. He'd been there for me when no one else had. He'd shown up at the times when I needed someone—like right now.

I nodded. "Okay. I'll tell you everything. But no questions until after I've finished talking, okay?"

Zach pretended to lock his lips and throw away the key, a gentle smile was all that was left behind.

CAMERON MORGAN

ONE YEAR AGO

DAD'S FUNERAL

I sobbed uncontrollably into my hands. Dad was _dead_. Gone. Non-existant. It wasn't possible. The man who was always strong, always there was no longer strong or here. He was dead and he was gone.

My hands curled around the photo I had kept on me at all times. It was taken at the circus. I was sitting on his shoulders, holding a giraffe toy that was almost the size of him. He won it at the strong man's challenge, making the ball go straight up that pole and letting the bell ring wildly.

"Cameron?" A man's voice asked.

I rubbed at my damp cheeks and looked up. I knew I had nothing to be ashamed of, crying at my dad's funeral, but I still didn't want my hurt on display for the world. I folded the picture gently and slipped it into my jacket's pocket.

The man was handsome, light brown hair and blue eyes. A slight tan and he was tall with a lean build. He was also unrecognisable.

"Yeah, I'm Cammie," I said, standing. Random associates of my father's had been introducing themselves to me all day and I had my role memorised. "Thanks for attending."

The guy smiled sadly, one of pity and unease. Reading people today had been too easy. There were never any emotional shields at funerals, but I wished there was. I didn't need to feel anyone else's agony. I had plenty of my own.

"You don't remember me, do you?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm sorry," I giggled humourlessly. "I think I've met the entire town today, so if I didn't know you well before there's no chance. How do you know my dad?"

The guy smiled—a real one this time. "My name's James. I used to live down your street."

"You're the Packers son, right?"

"Yeah, that's me."

I felt so stupid. "God, I am so sorry."

"Don't be. Nobody expects anything of you, today of all days, Cameron." James sat on the concrete seat and I followed. "I think everyone agrees with me when I say that we just want you and your family to get better. It takes time, but it'll happen."

"Did you... I mean, have you—" I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. It's none of my business."

"What is?"

I looked down at my hands. "It's just that you know exactly what to say. I can't help but wonder if you've lost someone too."

His smile was sad. "Everybody has lost someone. But I think that's my psychology classes kicking in." His joke, while pathetic, gave me the energy to fake a laugh.

"So you're going to be a psychologist?"

"Teacher, actually. But I want to teach psychology."

"I signed up for it next year, actually. I'll be a junior."

"Huh," he said, glancing up. A woman was approaching us with the same light brown hair and blue eyes. James's mother.

"Hello, Cameron," she said, diving straight in for a hug. James's worried gaze met my eyes over his mum's shoulder and I shook my head slightly. It's alright. Being bombarded for hugs by strangers was a part of the script. "I'm so sorry for everything, dear. Everyone loved your father and we'll all be willing to help out."

"Thank you," I said with no real emotion. I'd been hearing the same damn thing every day. "For that and for coming."

"I would like to make it to the wake, but sadly we have to go now." She reached out and grabbed James's arm. She had already started to back away, as if I were some skittish animal. "But I wish you all the best."

"Thank you."

James looked over his shoulder at me. "I'll see you around, Cameron."

"See you," I whispered.

TWO MONTHS LATER

DINNER AT THE MORGAN HOUSEHOLD

"Please, Cameron, be on your best behaviour tonight," Mum pleaded. "Margaret is a good friend of the family and I don't want it to be awkward."

I rolled my eyes. "Mum, chill. I know how to spike my drink without anyone noticing."

Her head turned so fast I thought it might snap off and she glared.

"I'm kidding." I held my hands up, palms facing her to surrender. Not really. I could easily spike my drink at school, but my mum's eyes were like a hawk. Not to mention the fact that there would be extra eyes. Margaret plus one.

When mum left the room, I sighed heavily and stared into the bathroom mirror. Dabbing on some more concealer under the eyes, you would never have guessed that I didn't sleep at night. Not even mum knew. If she knew then I'd be on medication and that would be an effective end to drinking.

The doorbell rang and I heard mum's fake joyful voice from down the hall. Chorus of 'how are you' and 'how much you have changed' were said. I waited until I was mentioned, then left.

"Cammie, please—Oh. You're here. I'd like to meet you to Margaret and her son, James."

My eyes widened in surprise at the sight of him standing in my door. "Hi James. Margaret." I nodded in each of their directions. Oh dear Lord please let this end soon.

"Dinner's almost ready so why don't we move into the kitchen?" Mum suggested and we migrated as told. Mum and Margaret entertained their own conversation, leaving James and I to have a rather pointless conversation. I don't know how we plummeted from a smooth conversation at the funeral to this awkward silence, but we did so in a fashion that would win us gold at the Olympics.

When dinner was served, I sat besides mum and Margaret and James sat directly across from us. With James directly across from me, it wasn't easy to avoid staring at him. But soon I realised it wasn't just me who was staring. I blushed furiously.

"So, Cammie, how is school?"

Mum elbowed me and I smiled politely. "It's ... been better," I decided on. I had perfect grades—there was no way I was gonna crash and burn any chance of leaving this hell hole—but my behaviour record was another story.

James said, "I heard that you and a girl named Courtney got into a fight, actually."

Mum's shoulders straightened and I glanced at him, trying to figure out what his game was with no avail. There was a mischievious twinkle in his eye as if he were daring me to say something, do something. I shoved some rice into my mouth and chewed. His foot, which was suddenly shoeless, rubbed up against my calf. That was not only flirting, but a total girls move.

"Courtney is always one to pick a fight, Margaret. You wouldn't believe the stories I've got to tell you about her."

Deciding to play along, I killed Mum's damage control. "Yeah, except this time she had all the more reason. It wasn't exactly a fight fuelled by boredom."

"What do you mean?" James asked.

"Courtney's ex-boyfriend, or boyfriend as she calls him, made a move on me. She didn't like that and I'm much better with my actions than my words." The corner of my mouth lifted up in a small smirk. Small enough that Mum wouldn't catch on anyway.

"It was self-defence in a way though," Mum said, voice strained. Her anger was obviously bubbling under the surface. "It's just that with Cammie's martial art skills it comes across that Cammie started the fight."

Margaret nodded her head in complete understanding.

"Doesn't Gallagher teach martial arts?" Margaret asked.

"Yep," I spoke up. "We've all been doing it since we were young. It's just that martial arts is my best class."

"I think Courtney's face is evidence of that." James smirked at me. What happened to the wanna-be psychology high school teacher?

"Do you do martial arts?" I asked.

"No, it's not really my thing."

"I could teach you if you would like?"

Margaret took the opening to dive into a story about some family friends and my moment of bad behaviour was over. Although by judging from Mum's knuckles which were strained white, my bragging had not gone unnoticed by some.

After the dishes were placed in the dishwasher, Mum and Margaret moved into the lounge room and I took the opportunity to escape onto the patio. Unravelling James's motives to his game had resulted in a small headache and their pointless chatter did not to help.

"Hiding?" James asked from behind me.

"Are you kidding?" I snorted. "After that little tennis match at the table my mother probably wants my head on a stick."

"Sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all.

"So what happened to you, huh?"

"Sorry?"

I sat down on a small chair and James followed suit. "I meant, what happened to the guy at the cemetery who was full of wisdom and didn't seem like the kind to get their friends in trouble?"

"We're friends?"

I smiled wryly. "Do you rub your foot up every girls leg?"

"Not usually."

"Then we're friends." I leaned back into the seat, exhaling deeply. If James and his mother had left, I would already have had a shot to calm the nerves. I wasn't addicted to alcohol, but I could definitely see some of the pros to drinking it.

"If we're friends then I suppose it's only right I offer you some of this." From a pocket inside his jacket he pulled out a flask. I raised an eyebrow in his direction. He shrugged. "I know what my mum's like and if they're friends then they must be alike which means this is a necessity."

"You were thinking my mind," I said, taking the flask and sipping it. Cold liquid burned down my throat to sit in the pit of my stomach, lighting it on figure. But I didn't cough. I had so progressed from that stage of drinking.

We spent the rest of the evening talking and taking small sips until James and Margaret left. Mum was in such a good mood that she even forgot to growl at me for my display at dinner.

ONE WEEK LATER

GALLAGHER ACADEMY

When the end of school bell rang it still wasn't soon enough for school to be over. Shoving my books into my bag, I hoisted it over my shoulder and headed straight for Mum's office. Not taking any notice of my surroundings, I collapsed in my seat and changed the song my iPod was playing.

Someone coughed from besides me.

I glanced over and frowned. "What the hell are you doing here, college boy?" James laughed at me and I tugged my head phones out. "Stalking's illegal, you know?"

"Trust me I know."

"So what are you doing here?"

"Apparently our mother's are taking on charity cases." At my confused look, he elaborated. "My mum told your mum that I'm being difficult and thought she'd be the good person and give me a hand."

"Ah. So you're getting a teaching placement." I smiled at my next thought. "Does that mean you're Mr Packer now?"

He laughed. "I'm a teacher without all of the restrictions." He winked at me and suddenly my throat went dry. Was he flirting with me?

"What kind of restrictions are you talking about?"

"The dating kind."

At that moment, Mum opened the door to her office. She smiled at the sight of us talking, though I knew if she had any idea of what it was about she'd be furious. James wasn't a teacher, but he was older and he'd be in an official position. Do have anything with him would be... Well. It wouldn't be my mother's dream come true.

"I'm sorry, Cammie, but you'll have to head home without me tonight. I've still got a lot to do."

"That's cool, but everyone's probably already cleared out by now."

Mum frowned.

"I can drop you off home after, if you'd like?" James suggested.

Mum's face lit up like the fourth of freaking July. "It wouldn't be a hassle, would it?"

"Not at all."

"Well that's settled, why don't you come in?" James walked passed me but I stared straight ahead. "Cammie, just stay here, okay?"

"Okay."

Their meeting didn't take too long and when James stepped out he was alone. He gestured for me to follow him and I did so in silence. I wrung my hands together nervously, not entirely sure what was happening. James was gorgeous that's for sure. He could also be incredibly sincere and smart, but like I said before, totally inappropriate. But there was something tempting about that. The idea that I we couldn't be together and his flirting and the comment about no restrictions got to me. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted it.

So when James didn't take me home first, I didn't object.

"Where are we?"

"My place," he said, pulling into his driveway. It was a normal looking house, much like mine. On the outside it screamed normal suburban lifestyle. But I knew how appearances could be so deceiving. He gestured to a corner in his hallway, "You can just leave your bag there if you want" and I did.

I followed him into the kitchen, forcing my confidence to outshine my nervousness. James was not the first boy I had been with, but for some reason he was totally different. He filled two glasses of water and pushed one my way. I sipped out of it while he put everything away.

"So what exactly am I here for?"

James leaned across the kitchen island towards me. My breath hitched a little when his face was only a few inches away. "I was hoping to test out get acquainted with those restrictions I don't have."

I smiled coyly. "Be warned: you have to earn that acquaintance."

James laughed, pulling back a little. "Sharing my flask doesn't cut it?"

I shrugged. "Depends on what exactly you were hoping to cut."

"Come on. I want to show you something."

He led me into a dark room before flicking on a light to reveal an in-home cinema. It took me a moment to figure out this was a converted driveway. There was a U-shape lounge facing a blank wall with a half-rolled projector screen. "Projectors are better for cinemas than televisions," James said, pulling it down. On the side of the room sat a small kitchen with a cinema sized popcorn machine.

I laughed. "You must eat a lot of popcorn."

"Surprisingly, no. You want some?"

"Sure." I sat on the middle of the sofa. "So I'm guessing you got the placement?"

"Yeah. Your mum seems pretty cool, actually."

I snorted. "Yeah. To people she's not related to maybe. I'm her daughter and yet it's like she doesn't even understand me sometimes."

He plonked down beside me and turned the screen on. "All parents are like that," he simply said.

"Well my mother's worse."

"Yeah? How?"

Taking a shaky breath, I plunged into memories I hadn't spoken aloud. "Did you know that my mum has only spoken about my dad twice since he died? The first time was when she told me what happened and the second time was at his funeral. I get that it hurts and that it's hard, but pretending he didn't exist doesn't make it easier. We can't talk about anything now, but he is in every memory I have."

"Aren't you being a little dramatic?"

"My dad took me to the circus when I was younger. It is my best memory of us. I was young and thought that I was too old for the circus when Dad said that he wasn't. He taught me then to be carefree and live life. I tried talking to mum about it. I wanted her to remember the good stuff about him. The moment I said the word 'Dad' she snapped. She screamed and threw out all of his pictures. There are piles of boxes in our garage with his stuff in it. She couldn't have it in the house, but she can't get rid of it either."

"Oh," he said, finally understanding. "Hey," he said, his voice chirper. "Forget about it all. That's your mum's way of dealing. What's yours?"

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Before my dad died you would not have heard about me getting into a fight with some girl over a guy. I wouldn't have accepted an alcoholic drink from a guy who purposely tried to get me into trouble. And I certainly wouldn't be here with you."

"Rebellion. Always the most exciting and fun coping mechanism."

He put his arm over the back of the chair and played the movie. I didn't even focus on it really. My mind was too busy trying to distinguish between the two sides of James I had met.

And that's how things continued for a few weeks. James and I would hang out, nothing would happen, and we wouldn't talk about anything too heavy. It didn't even occur to me that he had helped with my ability to cope. But it hadn't escapes James's notice.

"So what trouble have you gotten into lately? I keep waiting for the name of the latest target, but I'm not hearing any."

I pressed X furiously on the controller and frowned. "What?" I was too busy trying to shoot the guy in front of me to notice James had started talking.

He repeated the question and I frowned. "Um, none actually. Your high maintenance has kind of kept me busy."

"Bullshit," he called.

I paused the game and turned on him. "Excuse me?"

"How much trouble have you actually gotten in at all?"

I shrugged, knowing that it was really nothing. I mostly drank only when mum was around to see and the incident with Courtney wasn't started by me, even though I had said otherwise. "Here and there. I don't want to go to jail you know."

"Bullshit," he repeated. When I gave him a sharp look, he said, "about the here and there, not the jail thing."

"So what the hell are you trying to imply? That you keep me around for my bad behaviour?"

James snorted. "Well it's not for what I'm _not_ getting."

I flung my controller at him, hitting him in the shoulder. "Don't be such a perv. It's not like you told me you want to do anything."

"Haven't I though?"

"No."

James set the controllers onto the table and I got the sense that this was about to get serious. Or as serious as James could get. "Really? None of my hints have given you the impression that I want more?"

"Your hints? I'm assuming you're referring to your innuendos in which cause yes and no."

"Yes and no?"

I nodded, averting my eyes.

He rested his arm on the back of the chair and stared right at me. "Explain."

"Yes because they're innuendos and no because they're you. That's just how you always act so no I don't think any differently from usual."

James sighed and suddenly lunged forward to me. His mouth was soft, giving me the time to object, the time to move. He hesitated, pulling back slightly. I could feel his breath on my lips and I moved forward—throwing myself into him. His hand was splayed on my back, the other cupping my cheek. My own hairs were wound around his neck, tangling in his hair.

We pulled back, staring at each other, cheeks flushed.

"So, does that get it across to you?"

I smiled coyly. "You may have to repeat the message."

James didn't hassle me about my lack of bad behaviour afterwards. In fact, three months after we started 'dating' James wanted to take me to another party. That night was the horror of all nights. I hadn't attended a party with the intent of getting drunk for a while and the last party was a huge failure. I was trying desperately to forget the past week. James was being a serious dick. So even though I was a little rusty on the whole location thing, I was fairly certain drunks weren't meant to be on rooftops.

Especially the rooftop of Gallagher Academy.

"James," I hissed, tugging on his leather jacket. He turned to me, his eyes bright with excitement. "Seriously? This is going to end badly."

"Relax, Cammie. It's not breaking in when you have keys." He removed some dangling things from his pocket and I recognised them for my mother's set.

Anger stormed all over me. "Where the hell did you get that from?"

"Your Mum unknowingly donated to a good cause."

I groaned. "James, I really don't wanna do this." I hugged myself tighter, the night suddenly seemed scarier and a lot more dangerous.

"Don't be a kill joy."

"Well don't be an asshole."

He scoffed and I wacked his arm. "I'm damn serious. Lately, you've been nothing but an A-grade douche bag. What the hell changed?"

"Nothing. You coming or not?" When I didn't reply, he threw his arms up in the air and started climbing underneath the wire fence. James's friends had cut out a square big enough to get your shoulders through, but he still struggled with his wiggling, the ends snaring on his shirt. It would have been hilarious if I hadn't been so angry.

James jumped up, on the other side and grinned at me. "Last chance, Morgan. In or out?"

I eyed the grounds, knowing that security guards monitored the fences every twenty minutes or so and it was either now or sometime in the near future no doubt. I sighed and followed James's lead. The others had already entered the Academy through the back staff entrance. Staring at the hard planes of James's face, I decided to not tell him about the as equally accessible hidden stairway.

Sneaking as quietly as mice, we made it to the roof. Already there were a large group of students, the majority seniors. Music played from a radio and people sat together in groups, smoking, talking, and drinking. The other STD people talk about.

James led me to the other side of the group, plonking down on a pillow and pulling me into his lap. I sat wordlessly, staring at the large pill of white pills in the centre. I breathed in deep, focusing my whole body on remaining relaxed. I didn't need James to get even more pissed off. He was on a tight wire tonight for some reason.

"Hand it over," he said to the guy beside him. The guy grinned, grabbed one and popped it in. He stared at me, his eyes narrowing in concentration.

"You're the headmistress's daughter, right?"

"What of it?" I acted bored. Inside, I was screaming. What the hell was I doing here? On the rooftop of my school? Where I'm being recognised as the headmistress's daughter? I've gone insane. It's official.

I also need to leave.

Pronto.

I sighed heavily, flicked hair over my shoulder and turned to James. "I'm bored," I declared.

In response, he held up a smoke. I stared right back at him, dead in the eye. _He's joking, right?_ There's no way I'm smoking anything from these guys, I thought. James shrugged. "Your entertainment," he said. I sighed again and stand up, walking away and ignoring him. I knew I should have told him I was leaving. The last time I walked away from him at a party he started on a guy because he thought he was about to "have his way with me". Nevermind that the guy's fiancé was right next to him.

But I was nervous, angry, and feeling pretty damn humiliated that I allowed myself to be peer pressured into this situation. I was an idiot with only myself to blame. Reaching the end of the roof I finally find some silence.

In the pit of my stomach sat a huge gigantic rock. At least it felt like a rock. But I knew what it really was. It was the weight of my facade. The words James said a few months back came to me. I wasn't a rebellious child. Yes, I did bad things to get my Mother's attention. Who wouldn't when you were being ignored? It wasn't like if she actually stopped seeing me I wouldn't exist anymore. I was her daughter. I had a body, a heart, and lunges that I would frequently use to get her attention.

I rubbed my face, not really caring about my smudged makeup. This all had to end. James, me, his drug problem, the alcohol. Everything was slowly spiralling out of control and I needed to step on the breaks before every aspect crashed in a head-on collision.

Determined, I turned back to the party. A few new people had gathered around James. A bundle of small, white pills nestled in a guy's hand. Crouched down to James's level, he tipped his hand over James's. More drugs.

I stood behind them, waiting patiently. Once this was all over, it was over. I would make my way home, confess everything about me and suffer the consequences.

"Hey, Cameron," one of the guys said, raising his glass at me. I nodded back and James finally looked up.

"Hey," he said, his brow rising in surprise. "What's happening?"

"Can we talk?" I asked. "I wanna start heading off."

He groaned. "We just got here—"

"I _can_ walk home, you know. I walked almost every day from school to home before you came along," I snapped. "Can I just talk to you before you decide to kill yourself with drugs first?"

James slipped the drugs into his pocket, standing. Grabbing me by the arm, he hauled me off near our entrance. No one huddled around here. If you did you had first chance of being caught.

"What's wrong now?" he asked.

"I'm out."

"What?"

"I said I'm out. I've had enough of whatever shit you're getting into. You're right, I'm not rebellious. I don't like this breaking and entering, the stealing, the attitude. It's harder work than what it's worth."

James laughed, throwing his head back. "You're leaving? Just like that? Well, fantastic for you, _Cameron!"_

I flinched. My arms dangled by my sides as he started ranting on.

"Not all of us can just decide we've had enough of this life. Not all of us have the ability to pack up and move on. They won't forgive me, they never will." Mockingly he said, "I'm an adult. I should be responsible. But not you, Cameron." He leaned in close to my face, alcohol and something sour hitting my face. His eyes, wide like a deer in headlights, are bloodshot. He's high. "_Not the fucking perfect Cammie Morgan!"_ He shouted.

I stepped forward, let my wrist fly and slapped him across the face. "You know very well that I'm not perfect," I seethed. "You should know better than anyone with everything I've told you!"

James looked surprise, the handprint on his cheek becoming more and more prominent as time passed. Finally, he took a step back, raising his arms up in surrender. "Fine. Whatever. I'll go back to my new friends now."

I laughed bitterly. "Your drugs? What's their name? Cocaine and ecstasy?"

"At least they're peaceful," he called out.

"Peaceful?" I scoffed. James stopped and faced me. "James," I lower my tone, "you're going to end up dead if you keep going this way. You can't take all of that together."

"Not tell me what to do," he growled. Shoving his hand into his pocket he smashes it into his open mouth. I gasped and ran over. A few pills spill from his hands, missing his mouth. He takes two big swallows and then opens his mouth with a loud "ah" like a kid at the dentist.

"You—You didn't—Did you take them _all_?" I reached around to his pocket and he shoved me back, wagging his finger at me back and forth.

"Nuh, uh, ah."

I stood there, contemplating. What the hell was I meant to do? I couldn't leave him here. He took God knows how many pills. As the small smiles spread slowly across his face, I asked a different question. "Did you even take any of those pills?"

Still smiling. "Why would I waste so many at once, sweetie?"

"You are a serious asshole, James Packer. If your life is so damn pathetic, what hell are you doing then? Don't come near me again."

There, I turned sharp on my heel and made my way home.

PRESENT DAY

"Then what happened?" Zach asked softly.

Using the sleeve of my jacket, I dabbed at my tear-streaked cheeks. "I went home, woke mum up and told her everything. I didn't hold anything back. Half-way through it though she got a phone call from Gallagher's housekeeper."

"The house keeper?"

"Yeah. Turns out, James did take them all."

Zach's brow rose. "All of them?"

"Apparently he was already dead when his friend found him on the rooftop. He had been there for at least an hour before ambulances arrived on scene." Zach stayed silent. Feeling the need to acknowledge the blanks I said, "That made me the last person he saw alive. And I called him an asshole and told him to stay away from me. I also implied that he should kill himself. If he hadn't actually taken them all then he did after I left, meaning that I actually drove him to commit suicide."

I broke down into tears again. Zach, letting me use his shoulder as a pillow, rubbed my back and let me cry. When I had calmed down he said, "None of this was your fault. You can't blame yourself for his decisions. Is that what the past week has been about? Are your mourning him?"

I shook my head, took deep breaths. "No. Afterwards mum sent me to a camp. I was forced to deal with everything except I didn't. I wasn't handling any of it well and they put me on medication. Mum... She didn't want me anymore so she sent me here to live with Grant. She turned up again and I didn't react well. She brought my counsellor and psychiatrist. She wanted me to go back on the meds."

"Are you back on the meds?"

I shook my head. "No. Mum... She hasn't visited or spoken to me since school started. She can't make that decision since she's no longer my legal guardian." Another deep breath. "I just haven't been handling her presence and everything she stirred back up too well."

Zach tucked me under his side. "It's alright, Cam. You don't have to explain anything anymore. I get it."

"Thank you," I whispered.

He squeezed my shoulder. "Always."

We sat like that until the sun went down and our stomach's growled.

**Whoa. Whoa was that emotional overload! So now you all know the story behind James. I just wanted to put this chapter out there that way you all know in case I go on another unplanned break.**

**The first quarter of the year seriously sucked, but things are so much better for me now and I just wanted to say thank you for all your reviews! They're amazing. Also, I got a new laptop (half the reason was because my desktop broke and I had to hand it in to retrieve the documents) and everything's on the way!**

**Is this what you guys were expecting? I really hope it surprised you and met your expectations! Let me know in a review what you thought **** Hearing your guesses was seriously entertaining ;) **

**Thank you again and again!**

**Ellen. **


End file.
